


Only the Stubborn Survive

by fems



Series: Survival Series [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Reality, Angst, Drama, F/M, Goa'uld, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 106,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fems/pseuds/fems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Carter celebrates finishing her latest project with a man she only knows as 'Jack' and learns she's transferring to the SGC the next morning, but her first off-world mission ends in betrayal. Captured by Jaffa she keeps Earth's secrets under torture but is then brought before Apophis and Klorel, who decide to make her a host. She discovers the wild fling may just save her…</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <img/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : see profile  
>  **A/N** : The awesomeAmara D'Angeli has been my beta for this fic, but any mistakes are my own. A Karswyll has helped me brainstorm to fully develop the idea. I always appreciate feedback and/or constructive criticism or just a comment to let me know why you (don't) like it.

**Bar & Grill Downtown**  
**Washington DC**  
**July 31, 1997**

Captain Samantha Carter made her way over to the pool tables, cold beer in her hand. The bar's dingy lighting bathed everyone in a sickly yellow glow and she narrowed her eyes to get a good look at the players and the game. It had been a while since she last played but she could tell the man was throwing his game by watching his opponent's breasts more than his solids. After a minute or two the woman won and the man handed over some cash, before following her like a puppy to the bar. Another game was set up and Sam decided to stick around and watch the game from a barstool as she slowly sipped her beer.

After a couple of games the crowd started to thin. The guy who had won the last couple of matches looked in her direction. His dark eyes settled on her face and he quirked an eyebrow. "You gonna stand there observing everyone all night or do you wanna play a game?"

Sam could feel a flush creeping up her neck at his brusque challenge and fought the discomfort she experienced when everyone's eyes were on her. Only minutes ago she had admired his skills – okay and the way his jeans molded to his delectable six when he bent over – and now she was annoyed with him. "Who says I can play?"

"That little frown of disapproval on your forehead whenever one of my previous opponents missed their shots."

"I haven't played in years, though." It was kind of embarrassing to learn he'd been watching her while she'd been watching the games of pool, without her even being aware of it.

He held out a cue stick for her and smirked, looking pleased with himself. "It's just like riding a bike."

Sam took it from him with a little trepidation but automatically found herself checking the weight and her grip on the stick. It was true that she hadn't played in ages but there had to have been a reason she was often referred to as Pool Shark Carter among her friends at the Academy, right? Besides, it was just a matter of applying physics to get the right angles and she did have a degree in that area. "I'll give it my best."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short," he said, still grinning. "I could almost hear you thinking about each shot from all the way over there."

Okay, now he was just being infuriating, Sam thought to herself – and damn if he wasn't handsome when he smiled like that! Realistically she knew she could beat him but she had never really enjoyed being in the spotlight and, much to her dismay, with his challenge he had turned all eyes on her. Allowing herself a small smile she looked back at him with a challenge. "And you still want to play against me?"

He chuckled – a pleasant sound – and waved his hand in the direction of the pool table. "I like a challenge."

When he continued to stare at Sam she shifted on her feet uncomfortably and wondered what he was waiting for. "Don't worry, I won't let you down."

"Good. I was gonna say 'ladies first'." He grinned mischievously and started racking the balls correctly before removing the triangle and leaning down to break the rack apart. One solid ball landed in a pocket and he shot her a pleased look. "Solids." Rounding the table to reach the cue ball he took another shot.

Sam watched him with a bemused expression as he sank another three before the next rolled to a stop just in time to block the pocket. He stepped back from the table and crossed his arms over his chest. The slight pout around his mouth tended towards adorable or boyish despite the fact he had at least a decade on her. She rounded the table, slowly and then sunk two balls quick like a viper strike before catching his eye and making one more slow, confident shot. "You're right," she said and threw him a smirk, "like riding a bike."

"So it would seem." He winced visibly when the sixth and seventh balls sank in their respective pockets.

"I just need a minute here…" She moved around the table, eyeing the position of the eight ball and trying to determine which angle and direction would be the easiest to pot it. When she looked up from her study he was rocking on the balls of his feet, an amused expression on his face and an obvious question in his eyes. Sam nodded and designated the pocket in which she would sink the ball. "There you go…" She said slowly as it rolled over the green cloth and sank into the pocket she had indicated.

"Sweet. How long did you say it had been since you last played pool?"

"Years," Sam said with a smirk. "What were we playing for anyway?"

He ruffled a hand through his hair and shrugged. "A beer?" Before she could reply he'd stopped a passing waiter and asked for two more beers. Turning back to her he smiled. "How about best of five?"

"Are you sure your ego is up to losing another three rounds?"

Instead of being offended as she had expected he simply grinned, ignoring the chuckles at his expense from the small crowd that had gathered to watch them play. "What can I say, I'm a brave man. Besides, I was going easy on you."

Sam eyed him up and down, glanced at the solid balls still remaining on the table and raised her brows in challenge. "Care to put your money where your mouth is?"

"You betcha!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his winnings from earlier and put half of it on the wooden rail.

She pulled the same amount out of her jeans pocket and put it next to his bills, just as the waiter arrived with their beers. "Thanks." Taking a swig from her bottle she waited for her opponent's next move, and was surprised to have him hand her the triangle.

"I feel so secure with our little wager I'll even let you break."

"Best of five?" She repeated as she racked up the balls and, after thinking on it for a second, placed the cue ball in her favored location. Leaning down she positioned her cue to break the rack and was pleased to see three balls – two solids and one striped – ending up in pockets. Smirking she glanced to her opponent and straightened up, feeling both annoyed and strangely flattered when she realized he'd been checking out her ass. At least he had the grace to blush and look away, she thought as she moved around the table after throwing him a glare that had made lesser men cower. "Solids," she called her suit.

Two men stepped aside to give her the space to line up her next shot and she easily potted another solid ball. Two more followed before she took another swig of her beer and she was almost feeling sorry for her opponent when she managed to pocket the last two as well. "Eight ball in the corner," she called the shot, looking at him over the length of the table and indicating the pocket to his left with her cue.

"You're not even going to let me take a shot, are you?" He muttered as he toyed with his beer bottle, his head cocked to the side to watch her.

Sam smiled in reply and leaned over the table to set up her shot. Just as her cue made contact with the little white ball she saw his gaze drop lower and, to her embarrassment, realized he could see right down her top in this position!

"Ha!"

The shock had caused her to ruin her planned bank shot and the cue ball completely missed the eight ball after hitting the rail. Sam straightened self-consciously and looked down to ensure her neckline was still above the swell of her breasts and not exposing anything more, before showing disappointment at her failed shot. "Your turn."

"Didn't think you'd mess that one up."

She waited until he was standing next to her, lining up his shot until she responded. "Didn't think I'd find you staring down my top when I looked up," Sam hissed.

"Yes well," he sighed, leaning down and hitting the cue ball, "couldn't help myself. But feel free to continue checking out my ass if that makes you feel any better."

"I wasn't-"

"Earlier," he interrupted her with a smug look. "When I was playing against those kids, but I guess you thought I hadn't noticed, eh?"

Sam refrained from telling him those 'kids' were all adults and some were probably older than she was, and instead focused her attention back on the game; he had already pocketed three striped balls. "You seem to be playing better than before."

"Gotta up my game now that I've seen you in action," he said, pocketing another ball.

"Or maybe you were making yourself look worse in your previous games."

Smiling, he looked up from the bar table, his brown eyes glinting mischievously. "Yeah well, I couldn't show off my superior skills or you never would have agreed to play against me."

"Superior skills?"

"Watch and learn." He pocketed two more before letting his eyes roam over the table, trying to decide on how to take the final shot. "Center pocket."

Sam sidled up to him as he positioned his cue but instead of watching the game – she was pretty sure he'd win this round – she let her eyes wander over the side of his face and down to check out his physique. He had one of those ruggedly handsome faces you rarely encountered outside of a movie, with high cheekbones, a straight nose and thin lips.

She decided she found his eyes most appealing. His shoulders were broad but not overly so and the same went for his arms; the muscles were clearly toned without bulging. He was slightly taller than she was and he had lean legs, a slim waist and a delectable six, all things she figured were the result of an active life rather than lots of time in the gym. He didn't seem to be vain or even aware of how incredibly attractive he was, which only made her like him more.

Maybe she would have some fun tonight after all…

"Now that's how you sink an eight ball."

"Hmm, nice shot," she said absentmindedly.

He looked at her suspiciously before reaching for the triangle again and racking up for the next game. "Another beer?"

"Yes, please."

Much to Sam's relief, most of the crowd had moved on by the time they'd refilled their beers. There were two other pool tables and apparently a more interesting bet was going on there, for which she was grateful because while she had set her sights on her opponent she wasn't looking for an audience.

He broke and sank both a stripe and a solid. He took the time studying the table before declaring, "Solids."

"Works for me."

He smirked and managed to pocket two more before he made a foul. "Aw, crap. Your turn."

Lining up her shot she noticed his gaze wander down to her ass from the corner of her eye. Well, well, looked like she wasn't the only one interested in more than pool tonight, she thought with a smile. Refocusing on the game, she quickly cleared the table much to her opponent's disappointment. "I win."

"This round." He peered at the table before reaching for his beer and taking another swig. "That's one win for both of us, not counting the first game we played because that was a practice round for you."

"Want to make it more interesting?"

That seemed to pique his curiosity. "What do you suggest?"

"Calling each shot, not just the eight ball."

"Works for me," he said with a shrug, though she briefly wondered if he was disappointed her suggestion wasn't of a more  _personal_  nature. She took one wrong shot and he took the opportunity to run the table. He turned twinkling eyes and a wolfish smile on her.

"You seem pleased with yourself."

"That's because I'm winning," he grinned. "Just one more round and you have to admit I have superior skills."

Sam decided it was time to use everything in her arsenal when he failed to make a legal break on the next round and quickly but expertly managed to land all her called shots without giving him another opportunity. "You were saying?"

"Cute."

"One more round and we'll see who the superior player is," she said. "Wanna break?"

He shook his head adamantly. "Oh no, I'm not falling for that one. You won, you get to break; otherwise you're gonna hold it against me when I win."

With a shrug she started racking the balls and put all her focus on the next round. She never even noticed him sidling up against her, bumping her shoulder with his. "Trying to distract me?"

"With what? My irresistible charm?"

Sam laughed and rolled her eyes at him when he waggled his eyebrows. He had said it jokingly but she had to admit he  _did_  have a certain charm. Sex appeal too, she thought, aware of her racing pulse. Up close he was even more handsome if that was possible; the lines on his face gave him character. She knew he was older than her but then she'd never been very interested in her peers and tended to go for older, more experienced men. Catherine Langford, friend and head of her department, had suggested it was because of Sam's intellect and a friend from the Academy had claimed it was because she had daddy issues. While Sam could honestly say she'd never experienced paternal thoughts towards the men she'd dated, the truth was probably somewhere between the two extremes. Either way, her thoughts about the man still standing close enough to raise her blood pressure were decidedly unfamilial.

"What are you staring at?" Her opponent asked, shifting self-consciously on his feet.

"Sorry, just thinking. Ready to get your ass kicked?"

"By you?" His easy grin morphed into something more predatory as he let his gaze move down her body, slowly.

Her breathing hitched as his smirk caused a tingling low in her belly. Thoroughly distracted by the heat coursing through her body, her break only resulted in one pocketed ball. "Center pocket, off the four."

He took a swig from his beer before nodding pensively. "Tricky."

"I'll manage," Sam said confidently, and she did but she wasn't as lucky with the next one.

He managed to pot two but messed up the third shot. "Aw crap. It touched the other ball… your turn."

Nerves were suddenly wreaking havoc on Sam's concentration when he stood next to her and she could feel his body heat through her top. It caused her to miss the next shot and she quickly reached for her beer to get some moisture in her suddenly dry mouth. It had been a long time since she had felt such a strong attraction towards a man, let alone one she had only met an hour ago. Maybe two years was simply too long between lays, she mused as he sank another ball.

"Your turn."

"… hm?"

"Let me guess, you were thinking again?" He grinned and gestured at the table. "If I'd known you weren't paying attention…"

"Sorry," she muttered. Walking away from him made it easier to think but she only pocketed one ball. They went back and forth for a bit until Sam saw the opportunity to win their bet. "Yes!"

He shook his head but was still smiling when he grabbed the money off the rail and handed it to her. "Good game."

"Thanks, it was fun."

"How about a consolation prize?"

Sam was instantly wary and looked at him askance. "What did you have in mind?" She had plenty of bad experiences with men, especially after playing a game of pool – which was precisely the reason she hadn't played in years, she suddenly remembered – because they somehow got the impression that they were entitled to something in return when she won.

He took in the way her eyes shuttered, her mouth tightened and her body language closed off. "Your name, pool shark," he said with an easy, disarming grin that didn't  _exactly_ disarm her.

"My name?"

"Yeah, you know, the name your parents gave you upon birth. That way I'd know what to call you."

Embarrassed at having thought the worst of him she flushed. "Sam."

He beamed at her and took her hand in his. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Sam. I'm Jack."

"Jack," she repeated softly, tasting the name. Fitting. The palm of his hand as he held hers for a moment too long was rough against hers and the touch made a shiver run down her spine. He – Jack – had large hands with long, sexy fingers and Sam couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them on her body.

"How 'bout another round, Sam? Double or nothing?"


	2. Fling

**Hotel Room  
Washington, DC**

Sam wasn't quite sure how they had gone from flirting over a game of pool to making out in his hotel room hours later, but she wasn't complaining. She had surprised herself by accepting his invitation to go back to his hotel without taking a moment to contemplate what it meant and instead had picked up her leather jacket and told him to lead the way. Jack had grabbed her arm to swivel her around and pulled her body against him, one arm around her waist and his other hand coming up to caress her cheek. Breathless with anticipation she'd waited for his kiss and he hadn't disappointed her – the man was a great kisser.

But that first kiss had been tame compared to the way his tongue was exploring her mouth right now. He tasted vaguely like beer and steak and something pure Jack, she decided as she stroked his tongue with hers. Sam slid her hand up his neck and into his brown hair to pull him closer, his thin lips nearly fusing to her mouth while his own hands roamed her back and eventually landed on her behind, keeping her in place while his hips ground against hers.

Her body was on fire and she yearned to feel more of him, to feel the touch of his hands on her heated skin. Breaking their kiss she took a moment to catch her breath and simultaneously tried to shrug out of her jacket as she pushed off the door. Completely undeterred by the loss of her mouth or a need for air Jack started kissing his way down her jaw, nipping and licking at the skin of her neck as he tossed his own leather jacket somewhere behind him.

Sam, however, managed to get the lining of her left sleeve snagged on the elegant silver watch her mother had left her and giggled nervously when Jack pulled away from her skin to look at her inquiringly, as if to ask what the holdup was. "I think my sleeve got caught on my watch," she said, breathlessly.

"Here, let me see," he muttered, spinning her around and lifting the arm in question. Jack's slight stubble scratched her sensitized skin gently as he pressed a kiss against her neck every now and then, while they attempted to disentangle the watch together. He was surprisingly gentle considering his passionate behavior moments earlier and after a few minutes of fumbling he successfully extricated the piece of jewelry from the lining of her jacket. "There, all untangled," he said, lifting her hand higher and briefly releasing her waist to toss her jacket aside.

Sam flushed deeper when he brushed his thumb over the inside of her wrist before pressing a kiss to her skin. "Thank you."

"Looks good on you," he said, kissing his way up her arm until he reached her capped sleeve. "So does this shirt," the words were muffled against her neck, "but I suspect what's underneath it is even better."

"Subtle." She rolled her eyes as his large hands moved to the hem of her top, tugging it slightly as if asking permission to take it off.

Jack chuckled and caught her gaze over her shoulder, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Hey, I never claimed to be subtle."

"No argument there."

He groaned and tightened his grip on her when she pushed back against his obvious arousal, grinding back against her. "Can you blame me? You're kinda hot and all those games of pool were like the longest foreplay I've ever had."

"That was foreplay?"

"Well, yeah, kinda," Jack muttered against her shoulder. "We were in public, otherwise there would have been more touching and kissing. Trust me."

Sam smiled slowly and deliberately, covering his hands with hers and catching his gaze. "More touching? I like the sound of that…"

He didn't need to be told twice and followed her lead, his fingers wrapping around the hem of her top and slowly but surely pulling it up. His breathing got heavier the more skin he exposed, but Jack didn't let his hands linger to touch it and instead pulled the fabric over her head and away. "Beautiful," he murmured, his hands back to resting on her hips with his thumbs brushing her sides.

Leaning her back against his chest she closed her eyes and focused on the feel of his calloused hands on her body. The sensations were fueling her desire and she knew he could tell from the rapid rising and falling of her chest and her restless hips. Feeling his gaze travel down her neck to rest on her breasts made her blush deepen. Opening her eyes again she saw his appreciative gaze lingering on her breasts and, looking down, was a bit annoyed with herself for picking a regular white lacy bra this morning instead of something nicer – she wasn't even sure she was wearing a matching set of lingerie.

Jack slowly started exploring her body, his hands moving from the curve of her hip to her taut stomach and up to her ribcage while his mouth caressed the skin of her neck and shoulder. His palms never once lost contact with her skin and left behind a trail of goose bumps wherever they went and every now and then he'd nip her skin with his teeth. "Hmm, nice."

Sam was too breathless from the feelings his ministrations evoked to reply and simply pushed back against his body, wishing he'd move his hands higher. Her breasts were heavy, yearning for his touch and her hard nipples were aching and pressing uncomfortably against the lace of her bra. "Jack…" She sighed when his fingers brushed along the outside of her breasts but no further and his deliciously warm and wet lips kissed their way from one shoulder to the other.

"What is it?" He murmured, nuzzling her hair. His warm and moist breath against her ear made her shudder and he seemed to enjoy it, chuckling softly. One hand moved down her sides back to her waist while he used the fingers of his other hand to trace the outline of her bra. "Getting a bit impatient?"

"God yes," she moaned, grinding back against him as his fingers circled her nipple. His slow caresses were driving her crazy and she knew from his erection and heavy breathing that he was just as aroused as she was, if not more. Therefore Sam couldn't fathom why he was taking all the time in the world and torturing her with his teasing fingers.

Finally, he shifted and inserted one of his legs between hers as he pushed her forward to lean against the wall. When she rocked against him he pressed his thigh harder against her while his hand cupped her breast, kneading it gently before rubbing his thumb over an aching nipple, eliciting a soft moan from her. "Good things come to those who wait, Sam," he teased her.

"I hate clichés," she said weakly.

"Really? Sweet!"

Aching for a more intimate touch when he idly fingered the waistband of her jeans while smirking against her neck, Sam popped the button and lowered the zipper. "Please tell me you've got condoms," she said, knowing she had come here completely unprepared.

"Ack!" Jack swatted her hand away when she tried to push the jeans down her hips. "And yeah, I got some from the men's room before we left."

When she looked over her shoulder at him she was surprised to see him blush a bit and figured he worried she might think him presumptuous but truthfully she was pleased at least one of them had thought ahead. Smiling, she twisted further around to kiss him slowly. While she slipped her tongue between his thin lips and explored his mouth, his hand found its way into her panties and she automatically shifted on her feet to give him more room. "That's good," she murmured when she broke off the kiss.

He smirked against her shoulder as his fingers slipped between her folds. "The condoms or this?"

"Both."

"Just 'good'?" Jack asked teasingly as his fingers explored her. "God, you're wet."

"It's  _really_  good," she said, closing her eyes to focus on the feel of his fingers on her sensitive flesh.

Jack was panting slightly as his fingers slid over her slick folds while purposefully avoiding her clit. His voice was just a whisper in her hair as his free hand moved up to her breast, cupping it and playing with her taut nipple through her bra, "To think I thought DC would be boring…"

Sam grinned and started to move on his fingers and guide him to where she really needed his touch. His hand slipped deeper into her soaked panties, his palm cupping her while one of his fingers circled her opening teasingly. Her breath hitched when he slid a finger inside of her and she bit her lip in an effort to restrain herself. The moment he unclasped her bra and removed the undergarment she couldn't help but moan softly in relief, though. One hand came up to cup a swaying breast, kneading it gently while he continued his thrusts with his other hand. Jack withdrew his finger only to let another join the first when he pushed them deep inside of her and her inner muscles clenched around them immediately.

It didn't take him long to find the sensitive spot inside of her that made her shudder and whimper, urging him on. Jack readily obliged, increasing the pace of his thrusts and letting Sam press his hand firmer against her, allowing her to rub her clit against his palm for some much-needed relief while his other fingers tweaked her nipples. His breath was a soft puff against the side of her face, ruffling her hair, when he shifted his hand in the small confines of her panties.

Sam moved on his talented fingers in earnest now and it didn't take long for the friction on her throbbing flesh to take effect, a tingle spreading out from her center through her limbs while her muscles clenched at him and her hips moved more erratic until she reached her climax. "Oh," she moaned softly, still rocking slowly, "wow."

"Good?" Jack's question didn't sound smug as she had almost expected after such an intense orgasm and she was pleasantly surprised when he let his hand fall from her breast to circle around her waist and pull her against him, letting her ride it out as he kept up his gentle caresses with his other hand.

"Oh yeah." She leaned back in his embrace, still shuddering occasionally. "I just… need a minute."

He chuckled softly and resumed teasing her neck with his lips and teeth while he slowly slid his hand out of her panties. "Take all the time you need."

The erection poking her backside implied time was of the essence but she appreciated the fact that he wasn't trying to hurry her for his own pleasure. Sam also had to admit to herself that she was impressed with his restraint because she knew he'd been hard for quite a while now, yet still took the time to please her first. She grabbed his wrist again, lifting his hand from her stomach to her mouth and briefly admired his long fingers before brushing her lips over them and licking them clean.

"Oh, that's… really hot," Jack said hoarsely.

Flashing him a devilish smile, she pressed a kiss to his hand, before toeing off her sandals. Once she was standing on her bare feet she pushed her jeans down her hips and winked at him over her shoulder. "I think you're a bit overdressed."

Smirking, he quickly kicked off his shoes. "Let me." His calloused palms slid down her skin, taking her jeans and panties with them and suddenly he nipped her left buttock.

"Jack!"

He chuckled against her skin at her yelp. "Sorry, couldn't resist. I've wanted to do that since I first saw you bend over that pool table."

Then he soothed the mark with his tongue and lips, robbing her of the ability to come up with a quip. Heat flared inside of her at the intimate gesture and her heartbeat picked up when his hands skimmed her skin in a tantalizing manner and his lips traced a path from her six to her hip. To her embarrassment, Sam felt her knees grow weak once all her clothes had been removed.

Jack rose behind her, his hands exploring every inch of her while his mouth kissed its way up her back. Grabbing her shoulders he turned her around, facing him and gently pushed her against the door. Dark eyes met hers and his thin lips found her fuller ones after he cupped her cheek, pulling her in.

Breathless and aroused Sam opened her mouth to his questing tongue, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her body against him. She moaned into the kiss, meeting him stroke for stroke for what felt like an eternity and the need for air surfaced. "I'm starting to feel a little exposed here," she said, breaking off the kiss.

He smirked as he leaned back a bit, his eyes giving her an appreciative onceover. "Guess I got carried away a bit." His voice was hoarse as one of his hands roamed her bare back, while the other traced a path from her lips down her neck to an erect nipple. He cupped her breast and kneaded it, gently at first and then a bit rougher as she leaned into his touch. "God, you're hot," he moaned, dropping his forehead to hers.

"Less clothes," Sam said, blushing. "I want to see all of you, too."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Sam reached for his buckle and undid it before quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as he took off his shirt. "Where are the condoms?"

"In my right pocket." The words had barely left Jack's mouth before her hand reached in to it, making him groan and grit his teeth until she retrieved the condoms from the tight denim and threw them onto the bed. He sucked in a breath as she ran her finger over the bulge in his boxers and then he captured her lips with his again.

Sam smiled into the kiss, her hands already pushing his jeans and boxers down his hips while she pressed herself against him. His sparse chest hair tickled her bare skin and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart matched her own. The skin on skin contact was delicious and she let out a soft moan when he stepped out of the clothes pooled around his feet and pulled her flush against his equally naked body. Their kisses and caresses heated up when they made their way over to the bed. It was only when she pushed him backwards onto it that she noticed the dog tags hanging from his neck and realized the familiar feeling of warm metal nestled between her breasts hadn't been her own dog tags, which were still at her apartment! She had taken hers off when getting dressed for the dinner with coworkers because of her top's neckline…

"Sam?" Jack must have noticed her confusion because he sat back up and grabbed her hand. "Something wrong?"

"You're military," she said, eyes still on the tags.

He frowned and pulled her towards him, letting her straddle his legs. "Yeah, Air Force… why? Is that a problem?"

Sam tried to find the words but his hands on her hips and his nakedness were distracting her. She had only been involved with a fellow Air Force officer – Jonas Hanson – once and it had been a huge mistake, the relationship ending when she broke off the engagement and gave him back his ring. It had been enough for her to swear off dating fellow officers because it would only lead to trouble; even if a relationship would go well there was always the risk of one or both of them getting reassigned and if they broke up there was always the risk of encountering each other again at a different post. The latter was something she had feared with Jonas upon learning of his assignment at the SGC but he had died off-world a couple of months ago, so that wasn't going to be a problem in the future. But getting involved with Jack, who was probably a few ranks higher than captain, could only lead to more problems, right? Perceptions and reputations were incredibly important for a woman in the military and she had always gone out of her way to avoid any situation that might make people speculate she had slept her way up the ranks…

"Hey, Sam? You okay?"

Jack's voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she could see the concern on his face as he cupped her cheek and looked her in the eye. He was nothing like Jonas, Sam told herself. Besides, he wasn't even stationed in DC and had told her he despised the city and its politics. Considering she worked at the Pentagon and maybe had a shot at working at the SGC science labs, it was unlikely their paths would cross again because her flying days were behind her – the Stargate was her new goal. Not to mention they had already gone pretty far so even if they would meet again in the future it probably didn't really matter if they had gone all the way or if she left now. "Sorry," she said softly, "I'm being ridiculous. Of course it's not a problem."

"Bad experience with an ex?" He asked with a grimace as his hands resettled on her waist.

Sam cocked her head to the side and gently removed the chain from his neck. "Something like that."

Jack took the dog tags from her and tossed them to where the rest of his clothes were lying on the floor. "Well, hopefully tonight will be better."

"I have no doubts," she murmured, before pulling him into another kiss.

He eagerly opened his mouth to allow her tongue entry and pulled her chest back against his, his hands roaming her sides and back as he explored her mouth once more. The kiss grew more passionate as time went by and they only broke apart when they were both panting for oxygen, lips swollen and eyes dazed. Jack leaned forward and gently nibbled on her bottom lip, holding the back of her head with one hand. "You're sure?"

Instead of answering Sam pushed him back onto the bed and reached out to grab one of the condoms from the sheet. She usually wasn't so forthright with a man, especially not one she barely knew but there was something about Jack that made her feel at ease and the intensity of his gaze as he took her in made her feel beautiful rather than awkward and uncomfortable with him checking out her body.

His palms were rough on her skin when he moved his hands up her sides, only briefly brushing her breasts before sliding all the way back down to her thighs and she smiled appreciatively as her own hands explored his chest. The man was certainly in good shape – a job requirement she was all too familiar with – but not overly bulky, just the way she liked it.

"Did I pass inspection?" Jack asked with a slight chuckle as he lifted her hand from where it was playing with his sparse chest hair and pressed a kiss to it.

"Just admiring the view," she said. "Nothing you haven't done already."

A wolfish grin appeared on his face as his eyes raked over her again. "True, but I'm pretty sure I got the better end of the deal."

Sam averted her eyes under his scrutiny to hide her sudden nerves; one-night stands had never been her thing and she didn't want to disappoint Jack. After all, he had already used his talented fingers to get her off and had been more than patient considering the evidence of his own arousal. Taking a deep breath and hoping tonight's liquid courage had emboldened her enough, she tore the little square foil open and took the condom out. To her embarrassment she realized her hand was shaking slightly as she reached for him but Jack, whose dark eyes were following her every movement, didn't seem to notice.

Jack tensed when she trailed her fingers down his taut abdomen and seemed to steel himself as she neared his groin. A small groan left his mouth when she briefly caressed his erection before her hand slipped around his shaft firmly. His hands were fisting the sheets and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment before they opened again, his dark gaze moving from her face to where her hand was wrapped around him. "Don't…" He cleared his throat and tried again. "Just… be careful, otherwise this'll be over way too soon."

"Yes, Sir," she replied cheekily, pleased to see the corners of his lips twitch upwards in response. Seeing him lying there, obviously trying to restrain himself as she touched him filled her with more confidence so she proceeded but somehow she managed to screw it up. "Damn it!"

"What?!" Jack nearly yelped and leaned up on his elbows, glaring at her. "You know, you really shouldn't say something like that when your hand is on a guy's-"

"Sorry," she said, smiling sheepishly. "I think I nicked the condom." Frowning, she held it up into the dim light and upon closer inspection it really did look like it was damaged. God, you would think someone of her intelligence would know how to use a condom! Way to ruin the mood, Sam, she told herself. "I'm sorry. I don't know how it happened because my nails are pretty short and the probability of-"

"Hey!" He sat up, grimacing in discomfort but grabbing her hands anyway. "Relax. It happens. We still have," he glanced over his shoulder to check, "two left. I think you should just try to stop, um, thinking so much, okay? Ack!" Jack placed a finger on his lips when she tried to speak again and pulled her back against his chest. "We did a lot better when there was more kissing and touching involved, don't you agree? So, maybe we should just stop talking and  _thinking_  and just go with it."

Smiling in agreement she was about to say something when his lips were suddenly on hers, his hand working its way up to her hair to hold her steady. Her mouth opened involuntarily, welcoming his tongue and soon enough the kiss grew more heated and all thought left her mind until breathing became necessary. "Wow," she gasped, breaking away from his thin lips. "Definitely better."

"Told ya," he said, smirking. "Hang on."

The words had barely left his mouth when Sam's world tilted on its axis and she found herself being pressed into the mattress by Jack's weight. After taking a moment to reorient herself, she let her hands wander over his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles playing under the tanned skin while he kissed his way down her neck. Leaning her head back she gave him more room to work, once again marveling how one man could be so good with both his mouth and his hands. She could only hope the rest was just as good and, from what she'd seen so far, she didn't think there was anything to worry about. Smiling to herself, she slid one of her legs up his side and reached for a new condom with her hand.

Jack smoothly took the package from her while exploring her chest. First he nuzzled the swell of her breasts and then a hand came into play, kneading one gently and rubbing his thumb over her nipple. He started moving lower, pressing a kiss to the valley between her breasts before moving his head to the side, brushing his lips against the inside of her other breast followed by kissing a path to its nipple.

"Oh," Sam moaned, arching her back as he took her nipple in his mouth, "that feels really good." Her hands immediately slid into his hair, keeping his head in place as his tongue came into play. It felt like her heart could jump out of her chest any minute as his continued caresses made her blood rush through her body, pooling low in a throbbing ache. God, she wanted him inside of her! Now! "Jack…"

He smirked against her skin at her pitiful whimper but seemed to take pity on her – or maybe he was just as aroused – and grabbed the leg she had wrapped around him and pushed it back on the bed. "Give me a sec, Sam," he said, panting. True to his word, he leaned on his elbow and rolled half on his side and the next second a foil landed next to her on the bed and she could hear him roll the condom on before he was back on top of her. Dark eyes bored into her blue ones as he held himself up with one hand, the other pulling her leg back around his waist. "Ready?"

"God yes!"

Jack leaned down and kissed her, while encouraging her to move her other leg up too. Then, suddenly, he was brushing through her folds and pushing gently against her opening. He groaned as he slid inside of her, dropping his head against her shoulder. "Damn… that feels incredible," he muttered. "I'm not sure I'm gonna last long after, uh, everything."

"Shh," Sam whispered, leaning her cheek against his head and ruffling his hair with her breath. "No thinking, remember?"

He chuckled softly and pressed his lips against her pulse point. Shifting slightly he moved his hand over her hip to rest against the small of her back and grabbed her shoulder with the other one, before thrusting deeper inside of her.

She was surprised at how easily she moved with him as he withdrew and thrust back in, her hips completely in sync with his rhythm. Hooking her ankles together, she opened herself further for deeper penetration. Her breath hitched when he hit a sensitive spot, causing tingles of pleasure to spread through her body. Sweat was breaking out on her skin as they continued, flesh moving against flesh with their loud breathing and moans being the only sounds in the hotel room. Her nails dug into his back when he started thrusting harder and Sam closed her eyes against the sensations she was experiencing.

Jack's hand slipped on her back and she arched into him, making him groan. "God, Sam, I'm close."

Her own orgasm was building too, the combined feelings of him moving inside of her and the friction of his chest rubbing against her aching nipples enough to bring her to the edge. But she needed more to come again and tried to tighten her grip on him to urge him on. Seemingly knowing what she needed, his hand moved lower until he cupped her rear and used it as leverage to grind against her clit on every inward thrust. "God," she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed and her inner muscles tightening around him in response.

It only took him three more thrusts before he came, his movement jerking and fingers digging into her skin. A growl came from his throat before he lowered his forehead against her shoulder, his hips still moving against hers as he rode out his orgasm.

His powerful reaction only fueled Sam's desires further and, lowering her hand to his six, she continued to grind herself against him until she too was overcome with pleasure. A soft "ohh" escaped her lips as she clenched around him, her back arched and her head dropping back onto the mattress. "Wow," she said after a minute, still trying to catch her breath.

"That good?"

Sam tugged on his hair – which was surprisingly soft – until he looked up at her, his eyes relaxed and a gentle smile on his face. "Yeah, that was really good." When his smile turned into a smug smirk she rolled her eyes playfully before kissing the smugness from his face.


	3. Goodbyes

**Hotel Room**  
**Washington, DC**  
**August 1, 1997**

Jack slowly became aware of his surroundings in the morning. He was well rested despite the few hours of sleep he’d gotten but he felt sore in some places already from the night’s activities. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the blonde snuggled into his chest and smirked. Definitely no regrets. Looked like his trip to DC wasn’t entirely wasted…

“Um, hi,” Sam said in a sleepy voice.

“Hey yourself,” he grinned. “Sleep well?”

She stretched lazily, the sheet only barely covering her breasts. “Yes. You?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in ages. Even better, I woke up with this hot blonde in my arms!” He fingered the top of the sheet where it rested on her skin, trying to tug it down to reveal her full breasts.

Sam rolled her eyes and playfully punched his chest. “Hmm, sounds familiar. Only in my case it was a flyboy who was all wrapped around me, barely leaving me any wiggle space.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Yeah, right.”

He smirked and removed his hand when she prevented him from removing the sheet. Instead, he gently brushed her hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger there for a moment. Her blonde locks were silky and he couldn’t stop touching it. It had been a long time since he’d shared a bed with a woman without alien influence and he missed the intimacy of such moments. Trailing his finger down her cheek, he enjoyed the sensation of her soft skin before cupping her chin and pulling her in for a kiss. It was tame compared to last night but nice nonetheless. “I know it’s still early but I don’t recall if you mentioned work last night…?”

“Um, no,” she stammered, pulling away from him. “I have the day off but I should probably get going anyway.”

“Really?” The word had left Jack’s mouth before he could think better of it. It was true though; he wanted to get to know her better. There was something about her that intrigued him and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. He wasn’t entirely sure what was expected of him in the morning after though; he’d been married for years and couldn’t even recall the last time he’d fallen into bed with a woman he’d picked up at a bar.

The disappointment and confusion must have shown on his face or perhaps Sam took pity on him, because she smiled and squeezed his hand. “Well, there are a lot of things I have to do, but I guess maybe they can wait a while longer. I mean, if you want me-”

He pulled her back against his side. “Yes, stay. I have a meeting at oh nine hundred but that’s still a few hours away. Besides,” he leered at her playfully, “I believe we still have one leftover condom. I don’t make a habit of picking up strange women in bars for sex and it would be a shame to let a perfectly good condom go to waste.”

“I don’t either,” she said. “And I wouldn’t want to be wasteful.”

“You don’t make it a habit to pick up strange women in bars for sex either?”

She chuckled and looked at him with gleaming eyes. “Exactly. No strange men either.”

“That’s… good to know.”

Sam ignored him and leaned over the edge of the bed, giving him a perfect view of her back, although the sheet was still covering her ass. “Got it!”

“Got what?” Jack grabbed her from behind when she held a wrapped condom triumphantly in the air and dragged her over to his side of the bed. “Oh the condom. Good, although I have to admit I was enjoying the view,” he said, running his hands over her bare back.

Smirking, she ran her hand up his cheek, biting her lip when his stubble rubbed against her palm. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it when you use those skilled hands of yours but I was expecting more-”

“Touching?” He suggested, his hands sliding over her six and down to the back of her thighs to pull her up on his lap. “Exploring?”

Sam gasped when he unexpectedly slipped one hand between her legs. “Exploring is good,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed.

Jack could tell from her breathing and facial expression that she was still sensitive and perhaps even a tad sore from last night, so he gently explored her with his fingers. It didn’t take her long to move on his hand, though. “I love exploring,” he said in a hoarse tone when she leaned on his shoulders for balance and looked straight at him. Delving his fingers deeper, he used his other hand to caress her cheek before trailing down to her mouth, his index finger tracing her lips.

“Jack…” She whispered, her breathing labored. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Her kisses grew more passionate and soon she shifted her knees on either side of him, giving him more room to explore her sensitive flesh.

His own body responded to the feel of her slick and wet on his fingers. God, he wanted to be inside her and yet drag this moment out until the desire turned almost painful. He thrust his tongue in her mouth instead, their lips moving wetly against each other in a hungry kiss. Cupping her breast, he kneaded it in sync with his finger working its way in and out of her.

Sam dug her nails in his shoulders and moved her hips restlessly, torn between wanting his touches and pulling away. She moaned when he picked up the pace of his fingers and tweaked her nipple with his other hand.

A low growl escaped him when, pulling away from his kiss, she let her nails scrape down his chest to brush his growing erection lightly. Jack pressed his face against her neck, whispering against her skin, “Not a good idea.” Pulling her hand away he started kissing and nipping his way down her chest.

“More.” Sam closed her eyes and ruffled his hair while resting her head against his. She stifled a moan when he slipped another finger inside of her and started moving with him breathlessly, nails digging deeper into his skin to brace herself against the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins.

Jack was on the verge of pulling her down on his cock when she covered the hand with which he was pleasuring her with her own, crushing his palm against her throbbing clit. Her hips bucked in response but he held onto her and closed his mouth over one her nipples.

She gasped, holding his head in place as his tongue and teeth licked and nipped on the sensitive skin of her breast. “God, don’t stop. That’s amazing…” The last word had barely left her mouth when she came, her inner muscles clenching around his fingers and she nearly collapsed on him.

“You okay?” His tone was soft as he lifted her head from where it had dropped on his shoulder and his other hand was gently caressing up and down her back.

“Intense…”

His own arousal was throbbing with need, but right now he was more than happy to let her come down from her high after having seen her come undone. Continuing his soothing caresses, he rested his head against hers when she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her hair was teasing his nose but he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Jack…”

“Relax, Sam.”

She snorted, amused. “I don’t think I can relax any further, or I might dissolve.”

“As appealing as that sounds,” he deadpanned, “I think I prefer you in one piece.”

“Yeah?”

Jack turned his head towards her, nuzzling her hair. “You betcha,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Sitting up, Sam straddled his thighs and toyed with his sparse chest hair. “I guess that would put a damper on our plans…”

“Anything specific you had in mind?”

She grinned and kept her eyes on his tanned chest, her fingers trailing lower and caressing his toned abdomen. “Kissing,” she said, moving forward to capture his lips with hers.

The kiss was gentle and leisurely but still enough to get his blood pumping. When the need for air became urgent, he broke away, resting his forehead against hers as he tried get his breathing under control. “I like kissing.”

“Touching.” Her hands roamed his chest before sliding down, briefly pausing to circle his navel and then following the smattering of hair leading to his groin. She smiled at him before boldly curling her fingers around his erection.

“I, um…” Jack cleared his throat awkwardly and dug his fingers in her skin in an attempt to keep control. “I like the way you… think.”

Sam slowly started moving her hand over him, alternating pressure on his pulsing flesh as she observed his reactions. Her gaze moved to his face and she spoke his name softly, trying to encourage him to relax and enjoy the pleasure her touch was eliciting. “Jack.”

A soft moan came from his lips when she circled the head with her thumb and smeared the bit of pre-cum around. His breathing sped up and his whole body tensed when she lightly scraped her nail over his sensitive skin and before she could react, Jack grabbed her wrists and placed her hands on the bed as he gritted his teeth. “Whoa… just, give me a sec. I don’t want to blow here just yet.”

“Sorry,” she murmured sheepishly, trying to stealthily wipe her hand on the sheet. Searching the covers with her hand, she quickly retrieved the condom she’d grabbed earlier and put it in his hand. “Here. I don’t want to nick it again.”

Jack grimaced as he took care of the prophylactic and gently pulled her in for another kiss when he was done. He demanded entrance for his tongue and soon tangled with her own, while she pressed her aching breasts against his chest and his hand caressed her side.

Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders, her hand playing with his hair while she snuck her other hand between their bodies to grasp his erection. Without breaking apart she lifted up a bit and guided him inside of her, moaning into his mouth as he entered her.

Suddenly her wet heat was all around him and he was torn between savoring the moment or taking more from her. Groaning, he made up his mind and thrust deeper into her while pulling her down on him at the same time. The different angle made it feel even more intense than last night. His lips left hers when he was fully inside of her, panting and perspiring slightly. Giving her a moment to adjust to his size Jack started kissing down her neck, nipping at her pulse point and scraping his teeth over her collarbone before pressing feather light kisses on her mounds.

“Ohh.” She moaned when his mouth closed over a breast and started to move up and down on him. Soon she was moving harder and faster, her hips rocking against him. Slightly out of breath and her nails were digging into his shoulders when a light sheen of sweat broke out on her skin.

“God Sam,” Jack muttered, after releasing her nipple with a wet ‘pop’. His hands guided her into a rhythm but as her climax was building he tightened his grip on her and rolled them over on the bed, with him ending up on top of her. He didn’t give either of them a moment to adjust to their new position, instead he moved her legs up higher on his waist and, keeping one hand on her six, pushed deeper into her. It felt incredible and her hands clutching at his back for purchase only heightened the sensations for him.

She gasped as he hit a sweet spot and threw her head back against the mattress as he picked up the pace. His back was slick under Sam’s hands, her nails scratching at his skin as she moved with him. The change in angle and depth of his thrusts resulted in her climax washing over her. Her back arched involuntarily when he took a neglected nipple between his teeth, biting gently before he sucked more of her breast into his mouth.

Jack moved up when she tugged his hair and their lips smashed together in a wild kiss, tongues exploring each other as their bodies ground against each other. Tension was clawing at his spine, his body close to a release. He withdrew from her almost completely only to push back in to pick up the pace, eliciting a soft moan from her. Feeling his oncoming orgasm, he burrowed his face in her neck and thrust even harder. He growled low in his throat, hips jerking and fingers digging into her skin to crush her against him as he came, after a few last thrusts. “Christ…”

Sam ran her hand through his hair, ruffling the brown strands as Jack rested his weight on her. Gently, she let her trembling legs fall back on the mattress, all the while caressing his muscular back.

They were both coming down from their high and their bodies were cooling off rapidly after all the exertion. Sam shivered when Jack withdrew from her and he moved to get up, his frame no longer covering her sweaty skin.

“I’ll be…” He muttered, gesturing vaguely towards the bathroom as he got out of the bed.

* * *

 

Nodding in understanding, she reached down to retrieve the sheet to cover herself and get more comfortable. Even though she had felt rested after the few hours of sleep she had gotten, Sam figured she could try to get an hour or two of shuteye before she ought to leave. Jack’s meeting was still a few hours away but he would have to get ready in time and she still wasn’t sure how long he wanted her to stay here with him… maybe he even expected her to leave any minute now? She frowned, feeling oddly reluctant to leave.

It was just her luck to find an attractive, caring and single man with a good sense of humor and reasonable intelligence during a one-night stand! Then again, there was still the small problem of Jack being a fellow – and undoubtedly superior – officer in the USAF even if he wanted to continue seeing her. Never mind the fact he didn’t even live in the city and would probably spend more time abroad than on US soil…

Sam groaned and rolled on her back, rubbing her hands over her face in frustration. Jack _seemed_ like a great guy but she hardly knew him and, to be fair, her taste in men was awful! Somehow she always ended up with the lunatic fringe and knowing what had happened to her ex-fiancé, Jonas Hanson, after he joined the SGC really didn’t reassure her. How could she have missed his obvious mental problems? The man had proclaimed himself a _god_ and believed in his own hype, too!

Her musings were interrupted by a bang and loud cursing coming from the bathroom. If there had been any doubt about Jack’s military career they would’ve been cleared up by his foul language, Sam thought. “Jack? Are you all right?” When she didn’t hear a response she got up from the bed and, seeing his clothes less than two feet away, grabbed his shirt and slipped it on before dashing over to the bathroom. She knocked on the door but before she could try the handle the door swung open and revealed a sheepish-looking Jack.

“I, uh, I’m fine,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

There certainly didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him. “It’s okay; I was just concerned you had injured yourself.”

“No,” Jack said slowly. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking distinctly uncomfortable and kept staring at the floor. “Sam?” His tone was a mix of hope and pleading, accompanied by his warm brown eyes as he lifted his gaze, quirking a small smile when he noticed she was wearing his shirt. “It’s just, um…”

“Yes?”

He sighed and looked her straight in the eye. “There was a tear in the condom.”

She gaped at him, trying to understand. “What?”

“I don’t know what happened but I realized when I… you know,” he gestured towards his groin and shrugged. The pleading was back in his gaze when he continued. “I swear I had no idea… Maybe I was too rough? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no,” Sam said quickly, “it was fine. Great even,” she added, with a small smile. “I just can’t believe it…”

“Yeah, join the club.”

She grimaced at his sarcasm but suddenly understood his little outburst. She could feel his eyes on her and tried to come up with something to say but for once her brain was being suspiciously quiet. God, what a mess!

“You didn’t, ah, notice anything, did you? I mean…” Jack’s voice trailed off awkwardly and he was back to running his hands through his hair.

“No,” she said softly. At least she didn’t solely rely on condoms or mere oral contraceptives during intercourse. Even with Jonas they had always used condoms atop of her oral contraceptives, in part because the scientist in her wasn’t comfortable with the failure rate of a few percent for her birth control pills alone. “I’m on the pill, though.”

Relief washed over his features. “Oh, that’s good. I’m, ah,” he grimaced, “clean. I swear. I get regular check-ups because of all the traveling abroad and my latest blood work came back just fine a week or so ago.”

Sam let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and relaxed a bit. “Good. Me too. Well, the latest test wasn’t a week ago but it was all in order.” Her cheeks warmed up in embarrassment and she silently cursed her fair skin broadcasting her feelings to the world. “Like I said before, I don’t really do this,” she gestured with her hand to encompass their situation, “normally and it has been a while since I was last, um, intimate with someone else. I got tested after we broke up and it was all fine.”

A small smile appeared on Jack’s face as he held her gaze. “Yeah, it’s been almost…” He stopped, thinking. “Two months, I think, and that was a huge mistake. I didn’t really-” Suddenly he stopped himself and looked at her strangely. “Uh, something went wrong after I’d had too much to drink. I was totally out of it and don’t remember much about the whole situation, and I certainly wasn’t planning on, you know… but when I woke up… Well,” he cleared his throat awkwardly after scrubbing a hand over his face, “let’s just say I must have blacked out. The CMO ran all kinds of tests on me when I got back to base, though, and I was cleared. Since then I’ve undergone a couple more exams and haven’t, you know… Anyway, I have a clean bill of health.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to his babbled explanation but thought it was endearing how he tried to make her understand and seemed incapable of actually using the word ‘sex’. “Well, it’s been longer than two months for me and I wasn’t drunk at the time, but I guess this means we’re both worrying over nothing.”

“Right.”

Suddenly a thought came to her and she frowned. “Um, what about the other condom?”

“What?”

“Well, I nicked the first one and you just discovered the third one tore. Was the second condom still intact after we had sex?”

Jack frowned, suddenly also suspicious. “I think so. I mean, I didn’t really examine it up close but I didn’t notice anything wrong with it.”

“Where is it?”

“What?”

“The other used condom,” Sam explained. Looking around his frame into the bathroom she tried to spot a trashcan, recalling how he had disappeared into the bathroom to take care of the condom after their first time together.

“I, uh, flushed it.”

“Flushed it?”

He nodded and stepped aside, gesturing at the toilet. “Yeah, I flushed it afterwards.”

She furrowed her brows in confusion, wondering what he’d been thinking. “You really shouldn’t flush used condoms: latex might be biodegradable but it doesn’t dissolve in water and can come back up or clog your toilet. If it does go down to the sewer it’ll be bopping around there like a floating latex fish until it travels to a water reclamation facility! With the length of pipes pumps are needed to get it all the way there and a condom or other non-organic waste can easily get trapped in these pumps and probably has to be removed by hand!”

Jack blinked at her babbling, his face a blank mask until the corners of his mouth curled up. “You’re not one of those tree-hugging environmentalists or something, are you? Because that would seriously detract from your hotness.”

“You can be a real ass, you know,” she said, fighting a smile while punching his chest.

He just smirked at her and caught her hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss her fist. “Well, it looks like our crisis has been averted – although I’m not sure about the poor schmuck who might get called in a few days to manually remove two used condoms from the water pumps. Wanna go back to bed?”

Her smile disappeared and she shook her head as she was reminded of their near-disaster; she would still make an appointment to get herself tested just in case but while she believed him, she was pretty sure going back to bed with him was a _bad_ idea. “No, I think I’ll hop into the shower if you don’t mind.”

“Be my guest.” He made a sweeping gesture to invite her into the bathroom and pointed out the towels she could use. “I’ll just wait out here. Take your time.”

When he was gone she used the toilet before turning on the water and slipping off his shirt. Years in the USAF and even more as a military brat ensured she could shower in minutes, but she took the opportunity to scrub, lather and rinse herself thoroughly. Five minutes later she was toweling herself off, her skin completely pink from the hot water and her short blonde hair a damp mess from running a towel through it. Once she was dry she slipped the towel around her torso, pleased it covered her to about mid-thigh; more than she could say of Jack’s shirt which had skimmed her six since he wasn’t that much taller.

She paused, thinking about Jack… There was something slightly familiar about him but she couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe she had seen him wander the halls of the Pentagon once or perhaps she’d laid eyes on him during the Gulf War? There certainly had been plenty of their guys she had seen in passing during the latter, but she wasn’t sure that was it. Of course, it was possible she was mistaken or had at some point met someone who looked like him. Still, there was something about him.

Shaking herself, Sam tried to get back to getting ready. She didn’t have all day, after all. She combed her hair through with her fingers and roughly slicked it back. Picking up his discarded shirt Sam left the bathroom, suddenly feeling shy and insecure about the whole situation all over again.

It appeared as if Jack was asleep on the bed but as she came closer his eyes popped open and he looked at her. “Hey,” he said, gently smiling. “That was fast. I told you to take your time, there’s no rush.”

“It’s fine.” She laid his shirt at the foot of the bed and started picking up her own clothes.

“I guess you’re not coming back to bed then?” He asked after a minute, having already folded the covers back for her. “Sam, you don’t have to leave yet. We can just catch an hour or two of shuteye before I have to go to my meeting.”

Sam stopped in the middle of putting her jeans back on and glanced at him; he was looking way too attractive, all rumpled with messy hair from their night together. “I think I should head home.”

Jack slipped out of bed – wearing his boxers, she noted – and came to stand in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I have lots of things to do and I’m not all that sleepy anymore anyway.” She attempted a smile but wasn’t sure she succeeded. During her shower she had decided to leave before she was tempted to stay longer and things got even more complicated. It was supposed to be a carefree night with a handsome man, not an opportunity to fall for a guy who lived in some other state and probably spent more time overseas than in the US! “Besides, I can’t exactly afford to skip the pill now and I don’t have it on me. Going home with you hadn’t exactly been in my plans, yesterday.”

“Same here,” he said, smirking. “Can’t say I regret it, though. If I’m totally honest, I think I may have actually become partial to freckles,” Jack added, brushing his thumb over her shoulder.

She chuckled, reminded of the tiny brown flecks that had appeared on her shoulders and arms after spending the last few days of leave outdoors. “You’re just trying to get into my pants.”

“Nah, already been there,” Jack replied. “Don’t get me wrong,” he backtracked, “I’m not opposed to doing this again some day…”

“Yeah? And how do you figure that’s going to work?” Sam asked, quickly sobering up as she buttoned up her jeans. “You’re just gonna give me a call whenever you’re in DC?”

He grimaced, appearing genuinely upset. “You’re right. That’s a bad idea and totally unfair to you. Besides, I’m hardly ever in town, fortunately. Well, now that we’ve met I guess that should be _unfortunately_ ,” he amended with a sad smile.

Confused by his reaction she turned her back on him to finish getting dressed. For some reason she’d hoped he would be more or less pleased to see her go.At the very least not express his regret at not seeing her again because it would be a hell of a lot easier to forget about him if she could convince herself he didn’t feel the same connection she had and just thought they had fun together. Once she was fully clothed she whirled around to face him again and did her best to smile convincingly – when had she become so emotional? “Well… I really should get going.” 

Just as she passed him by Jack grabbed her arm, pulling her against his chest. “Sam…” He sighed, reaching up to cup her chin. “Just one last kiss?”

She caved, nodding and leaning in to capture his lips. The kiss was passionate, tongues tangling together and his arms wrapped around her waist before she pushed him away gently, both of them panting. “I have to go. You should get some rest before your meeting.” Sam brushed her thumb over his cheek and smiled at him. “Bye, Jack.”


	4. TDY

**Stargate Command**  
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**  
 **August 1, 1997**

The military hop to Peterson Air Force Base had been uneventful and Sam was grateful for it, as it had given her the opportunity to process what had happened and allowed her to go over the information she had about the SGC, its personnel and missions. To say she had been shocked to come home in the early morning hours to find a message summoning her to the Pentagon on her answering machine would be an understatement. It had only been a few days ago that her CO, Colonel Kennedy, had sent her home for a week’s leave. But the message had sounded urgent enough for her to call Colonel Kennedy’s assistant right away and to her surprise, she had been told to come in ASAP!

The shower she had taken at Jack’s had saved her time getting ready and all she needed to do was put on a bit of makeup, blow-dry her hair and change into her dress blues. Thirty minutes later she had reported to Kennedy, who had been his charming self and told her that while she – more likely her achievements – would be missed, she was being temporarily transferred to Colorado Springs to be on an off-world team at the SGC! If all went well, it could become a permanent assignment or she could at least get stationed at the SGC’s science department rather than go back to the Pentagon!

“I will take you to General Hammond’s office, Ma’am,” the security force’s guard who’d been assigned as her guide said.

“Is there some kind of emergency, Sergeant? Is that why I was sent here immediately?”

The man smiled apologetically as he escorted her to the second elevator. “Above my pay grade, Ma’am.”

Normally, it would take a few weeks for the paperwork to come through and Sam hated mysteries she couldn’t solve. For some reason they needed her expertise and she wasn’t about to say no after pleading for a transfer here for months. Fortunately, in the hopes of getting her transfer requests approved, she had kept up her physical condition as well as her firearms, hand-to-hand combat and medical field training, so she figured she was about as prepared as she could be. “Well, it doesn’t look like the fate of the planet is at stake,” she said when they exited the elevator and all was quiet in the corridor.

“General Hammond will be able to tell you more, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Now that she was actually _here_ Sam felt nervous and a bit giddy too, excited at the prospect of traveling to another planet. Even when she had been a little girl she had dreamed of going into space – becoming an astronaut. That dream had been put on hold after the _Challenger_ Disaster and instead she had entered the military, knowing she could join NASA as an Air Force nominee if the shuttle Program was reinstated at a later date.

Of course, once she had learned the purpose of the Stargate she had been determined to join one of the off-world teams. Unfortunately, all her requests for reassignment had been rejected up until now.

In an attempt to calm her nerves she smoothed her hands down her uniform and tried to recall what she knew about the SGC and the base itself, mentally citing each level’s facilities as the car passed them. She couldn’t help but wonder what her role here was going to be; Colonel Kennedy had said it was temporary but that might change.

“The General’s office is just up ahead, Ma’am.”

Sam took a deep breath to steel her nerves and followed the man. At least all the excitement of her new assignment had barely allowed her more than a fleeting thought of the night she had spent with her handsome stranger and the fact that she had been far too reluctant to leave him in his hotel room for a simple one-night stand. There had been chemistry between her and Jack, but the connection she had felt with him as the night progressed had scared her; she liked him far too much for a fling!

“General Hammond’s office, Ma’am.”

Startled from her thoughts, Sam looked at the SF and nodded her thanks before dismissing him. After running her hands through her hair and hoping her makeup covered the fact that she hadn’t slept much last night, she knocked on the door.

“Enter!”

She opened the door and walked up to the desk, behind which a portly balding man with a friendly face and two stars on each shoulder was sitting. Her eyes quickly darted to the nameplate – Major General G. Hammond – on the desk before standing at attention and saluting. “Captain Samantha Carter reporting as ordered, Sir.”

Hammond stood and returned the salute. “At ease, Captain. Normally I would make some small talk and allow you to settle in while familiarizing yourself with the base but unfortunately we’re on a tight schedule, so if you’ll excuse me I’d like to get straight to the point.”

“Of course, Sir.”

He got out from behind his desk and gestured for her to follow him to the briefing room. “I’m aware of the work you’ve done for this Program even before there really _was_ a Program, Captain, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you and,” he walked over the large window, “be able to show you the fruits of your labor in action.”

Curiosity piqued, Sam joined his side. Below was the ‘gate room, with a prominent place for the Stargate. She could see the iris she had designed was closed and behind it and the Stargate the blue light of the event horizon shimmered on the wall. There wasn’t a team waiting in front of the ramp, which probably meant someone else had dialed in from off-world – probably a scheduled check-in considering the General’s lack of concern. “It’s fascinating, Sir.”

“I thought you might say that,” he smiled. “You are the foremost expert on the Stargate, after all.”

“And yet I’ve never been in the same room with it.” Realizing how she sounded, Sam’s eyes widened and she turned back to the General. “That came out wrong and I apologize, Sir. I just meant that this is the closest I’ve ever been to the Stargate and-”

Hammond chuckled softly and waved off her apology. “No need to apologize, Captain. I know what you meant. Don’t worry,” he continued, eyes twinkling, “soon you’ll have all the time you want to examine it up close.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re curious about your sudden TDY to one of our off-world teams after your previous reassignment requests were denied…”

She flushed in embarrassment at learning he was aware of her attempts to get stationed here and hoped he wasn’t the one who had been behind the rejections – she had always assumed it was her CO at the Pentagon or even the Joint Chiefs of Staff – because that didn’t bode well for a future for her at the SGC.

“… and let me assure you this had nothing to do with any shortcomings on your side. As a matter of fact, it was because of your accomplishments and skills that the brass preferred to keep you away from my base; unlike most of my people a genius of your caliber is not so replaceable. Don’t get me wrong, I have some of the best men and women the Air Force has to offer under my command but most of their skills are in the field, whereas your brain and your work behind the scenes makes you invaluable to this Program. The President and the Joint Chiefs weren’t willing to risk losing you on some backwater planet simply because you wanted to experience the thrill of traveling to other planets.”

Damn, it had started out so well, Sam thought dismayed. Of course she was aware of the risks off-world missions would bring and it wasn’t just her adrenalin-junkie-nature that made her want to go through the 'gate; she honestly thought she could make a difference on an SG team! Already there had been several missions where the teams had barely escaped with their lives due to some idiot pushing the wrong button or being unable to disable a piece of alien technology or returned empty-handed because they didn’t know how to disarm and retrieve some alien space gun… “I see,” she said slowly, after realizing the base commander was waiting for an answer. “With all due respect, Sir, then why am I here now?”

General Hammond turned to her. “Well, some people think your potential is wasted at the Pentagon. Being here at the SGC would be more dangerous but it would also allow you to work directly with alien technology and an off-world team would give you some more experience in the field. The President and JCS are considering giving Area 51 a larger role in the future too, with our alien artifacts and technology being sent there for further examination once the scientists here have had a look at it. That could be an option for you too – working at Area 51 – but wouldn’t give you any real field experience. Right now it is still unclear where the Air Force needs you to be and in the meantime I was hoping to make use of your skills and intellect, Captain.”

“By temporarily assigning me to an SG team.” Sam still wasn’t sure why the higher-ups would have agreed to it if they were indeed concerned about her getting killed off-world but she wasn’t going to argue against the decision.

“To SG-7 to be exact. So far it’s our only science team, if you will. Unfortunately the previous members of SG-7 were all killed on Hanka by the Goa'uld Nirrti and their next mission was scheduled for next week. The science team is one of the few teams that often go on long-term missions to observe alien phenomena, do mineral studies and examine alien technology after a first-contact team has established relations with the natives.”

She had heard about what happened to SG-7 from Doctor Fraiser when the base CMO had asked the Pentagon’s Xenophysics department – where they did all things Stargate-related – for help on the alien girl with the bomb in her chest. Sam had been the one assisting her in her research over the phone.

“Their missions are deemed relatively safe compared to the other recon teams, with the only risks being an unexpected Goa'uld attack so far, although they have also accompanied some of our medical personnel off-world when necessary in the past. The new leader of SG-7 and your commanding officer is Lieutenant Colonel Grieves; his experience is mostly in special ops and he has just been transferred here after a brief stint at Stargate Mission Analysis at the Pentagon,” Hammond explained.

She knew about the project at the Pentagon – technically it fell under her department - but the name of her new CO meant nothing to her. Hopefully he wasn’t an ass like Colonel Kennedy or some of the other male commanders she’d had during the Gulf War, though. “What about the rest of my team, Sir?”

“Lieutenant Isaacs has been temporarily assigned here as well, his field experience is slim but he has degrees in meteorology and geology, both of which will probably be needed in your upcoming mission. Airman Adams is your fourth member, chosen because of his potential and field medical training. The previous team had an officer with a medical degree but for now we are experimenting with the composition of this team; hopefully you can all learn something of each other’s specialty until we can find more combat-trained scientists qualified in the various areas we need to add to other SG teams.”

“You want to rotate us among the nine teams, Sir?”

Hammond smiled and started leading her towards the corridor. “Yes, once our new budget gets approved we want to hire more scientists, both military and civilians. For now the doctors and nurses will all remain on base unless they are needed off-world. We will start training more field medics among the SG teams and hopefully someone like Lieutenant Isaacs can teach you and others about what kind of soil samples or atmospheric readings will be helpful for further examination on base and how to take them.”

Sam nodded in understanding as they entered the elevator. “And you want me to teach him how to take energy readings, disable power cores and-”

“Yes, your knowledge of engineering and astrophysics would be beneficial to the entire Program and especially the teams who actually go through the 'gate. It is not unlike Doctor Jackson sharing his knowledge of the language of the Goa'uld and other alien races and cultures with the other teams. Most of our teams have at least one member who goes to Doctor Jackson’s courses and he is also sharing his knowledge with the other scientists in the archeology, anthropology and linguistics department. The year he lived on Abydos has taught him a lot about how the Goa'uld language and its dialects are spoken aloud and it has proven most useful on missions.”

“Is anyone on my team following these courses by Doctor Jackson?”

The General shook his head as the car started its ascent to level twenty-one. “No, the Lieutenant has only just joined us and Adams was reassigned here almost two months ago but he at least tagged along on several missions to learn from the more experienced teams. As you may know Doctor Jackson is part of the flagship team, SG-1, and their mission schedule has been busy as of late.”

Of course she knew he was part of SG-1, having read many of their mission reports and even exchanging emails with Doctor Jackson, but the base commander probably wasn’t aware of it this. “Isn’t there also a Jaffa on SG-1, Sir?”

“Teal'c of Chulak, former First Prime of Apophis,” he confirmed. “I’m sure you will meet him soon enough – he’s hard to miss.”

She had read some of his mission reports and explanations about Goa'uld and Jaffa society, as well as the reports about the larval Goa'uld he – and every other adult Jaffa – carried in his stomach pouch. Most of the latter had been written by the medical staff who had done exams on both the Jaffa and his prim’ta, as it was called. “Jaffa have a forehead tattoo of the Goa'uld they serve, right Sir?”

“I see you’ve done your research, Captain. And yes, you’re correct but in the case of First Primes they aren’t regular ink tattoos – they’re gold.” Hammond smiled when the elevator came to a halt and gestured for her to follow him. “Normally my second-in-command would show you around, give you a proper introduction to the SGC and probably leave you with Doctor Jackson for a history lesson but unfortunately Jack is meeting with the President and the JCS in Washington DC. They wanted an in-person report about the Hathor ordeal and what security measures are to be taken to prevent another Goa'uld from entering the facility so easily. He’ll be returning later today and no doubt in a foul mood after spending two days in DC, but I couldn’t go myself. You will probably already be off-world when he comes back, though.”

“Sir, I thought your second-in-command was Colonel John O’Neill?” It wasn’t her habit to interrupt superior officers but she was confused; in all the reports she had read SG-1 had been Teal'c, Doctor Jackson, Lieutenant Kershaw and Colonel O'Neill, and O'Neill was both leader of the flagship team as well as the base’s 2IC.

There was a brief frown on Hammond’s face before it cleared and he nodded. “You’re correct, Captain, but Colonel O'Neill goes by ‘Jack’.”

Holy Hannah! Sam froze in the middle of the entry door to the infirmary, suddenly finding herself back in that hotel room. _Jack… Air Force… a meeting with his superiors… hates DC…_ Could it be…? No wonder she had thought he looked familiar! Oh God, what had she done?!

“Captain?” The base commander seemed concerned but he obviously had no clue as to her epiphany. “Don’t worry about your lack of off-world training; we chose you on the team because of your combat experience among other things. We’re not expecting any trouble and the natives were reportedly friendly enough but in the event something unexpected would happen, I’m sure you can handle it. Now, if that’s all,” he glanced at his watch, “I will leave you here in the capable hands of our CMO, Doctor Fraiser, for your pre-mission check-up. The mission briefing is in an hour and a half and you will depart shortly thereafter, so make sure you have some food in your stomach. My people say it helps against the nausea, especially on first time trips.”

“Right, um, yes, Sir. I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“There are personnel quarters on level twenty-five and one has been prepared for you, Captain. If you had any personal items on you at the entrance of the mountain then you will find them there, along with a new pair of BDUs and combat boots.”

Sam nodded, her mind still half on Jack and what the possible fallout of her little fling with him would have for her career at the SGC. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You’ll be fine, Captain. I will see you and your team at the briefing.” Hammond was already leaving when he turned around and smiled enigmatically at her. “Oh and I read your report about research into alternative applications for the Stargate. Personally, I found the part about time travel very intriguing.”

Before she could assure him that time travel was out of the question until they mastered the technique of predicting solar flares – which was impossible at their current level of technology – and determine how far one would send them back or forward into time when intersecting with a wormhole, Hammond had already turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

Deciding she might as well get this over with as soon as possible she entered the infirmary and made a mental note to look up Colonel O'Neill’s file with, hopefully, a current picture, just to make sure she wasn’t imagining things…

 


	5. Prepping

**Stargate Command**  
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**  
 **August 1, 1997**

Doctor Fraiser turned out to be a warm, caring yet no-nonsense CMO who really was barely over five feet tall! She was also very nice and had immediately put Sam at ease before starting the physical exam and was now regaling her with her account of the 'Hathor invasion' – as the petite woman called it – while taking her blood pressure. "… and they just caught on fire! Hathor got away but we managed to collect those squishy little larvae for further study at Langley. They were all dead and most were damaged from the fire but there were also a few unharmed ones. Unfortunately, the whole incident has put a lot of the men off the hot tub in the locker room, all of them preferring to suffer some strained muscles, aching knees and twisted ankles rather than set foot in it."

"I can only imagine."

"They're all a bunch of big babies." Doctor Fraiser smiled, clearly just joking. "If it weren't for us that day they'd all be worshipping Hathor."

Sam chuckled, trying to imagine the reaction of the men afterwards. "How many were there of you?"

"Only a dozen! It's a good thing Hathor underestimated us and that we had tranquilizer guns, otherwise the outcome may not have been as good," the Doctor said.

Then the entire planet would probably have been enslaved by a Goa'uld, she thought dismally. The report of the incident hadn't made it to Sam's desk – it wasn't an off-world mission nor did it result in gaining alien technology – but she had heard the rumors within days of the incident. "Is it true the Goa'uld used some kind of pheromone to control the men?"

The petite brunette nodded and moved to take some blood samples. "Near as we could tell it was some kind of chemical organism in her breath with similar effects to pheromones combined with sodium pentothal. As soon as she went through the Stargate the effects were lifted and the men returned to a somewhat dazed and confused yet otherwise normal state."

"And she had brought a sarcophagus with her?"

"We're not sure where it came from, but she most likely had it shipped here from the Mayan Temple of Inscriptions in Palenque, Mexico."

Sam frowned and waited until the CMO had taken all the blood samples she needed. "That was where her body was discovered?"

"Yes, trapped for centuries in her own sarcophagus, apparently. Unfortunately the sarcophagus itself was destroyed shortly after Colonel O'Neill had used it."

"The Colonel used the sarcophagus? Why?"

The Doctor finished labeling the samples and set her things aside. "Hathor had used some kind of device to give him a Jaffa pouch. Apparently, she wanted him to be her first Jaffa. The larva hadn't been implanted yet when Lieutenant Kershaw and I found him and the sarcophagus healed his pouch, most likely because it was perceived as a recent injury. According to Teal'c the healing of a pouch had never happened to the few Jaffa he knew had used a sarcophagus."

Sighing, Sam took a cotton ball from her and put it against the tiny drop of blood on the inside of her elbow. "Too bad about the device but I guess it's a good thing Colonel O'Neill managed to make use of it before it was destroyed."

"Tell me about it! I could definitely use one of those magic boxes here with all those injured teams coming back to Earth!"

She figured this was as good an opening as she was going to get to broach the subject of  _Jack_  and tried to come up with a plausible lie to fish for some answers, but as the Doctor walked over to the other side of the infirmary to retrieve something from a counter Sam decided against it. Lying had never been her strong suit and just telling the other woman she  _may_  have bumped into the Colonel at the Pentagon but wasn't sure and 'could she maybe describe him?' just sounded too far-fetched.

It wouldn't do tip off anyone on base about her possible connection with the General's 2IC, not even someone as nice as the CMO; it could be construed as an inappropriate interest in a superior officer and Sam had always gone out of her way to prevent attracting the wrong kind of attention. A possible relationship – past, current or future – with or a crush on Jack O'Neill would put her and all the other women in the military in a bad light. Not to mention what would happen if her hunch about Jack was right and word of her questions would lead back to him!

"Captain," Doctor Fraiser said as she came back, "that was the standard pre-mission exam. The blood samples and vitals will function as a baseline for when you return. That way we can more easily detect any alien infections or accidental drug intake. Trust me, it happens with all the alien food and beverages – and it also serves as a screening before you go off-world, in case you are coming down with something for example, since we don't want to infect other planets with Earth strains of viruses and such. However, there are also some standard operating procedures I've implemented a few months ago; they're required for 'gate travel and I would like to go over them now. I took a look at your medical records and noticed you've already been immunized against various diseases from when you were deployed during the Gulf War. That's good but there are some other alien strains we've encountered since, which is not surprising since many of the societies are kept primitive by the Goa'uld and their healthcare isn't as advanced as ours."

Sam nodded in understanding, already dreading the various shots that would no doubt be injected in her buttock or arm and would feel sore for days. "How many?"

The CMO smiled, as if she knew what was going on in her head. "Just a few. Your tetanus shot should last you another year or two, so we will give you a booster shot then. These two," she indicated two out of five syringes she had prepared, "contain vaccines for the diseases you might encounter off-world and will have to be followed up on in two months. The third one is a booster and the fourth is a vitamin shot."

"Vitamin shot?"

"You're on the low end of the scale, Captain, and your medical records mention that your last three physicals all indicated you work too hard, sleep too little and eat a lot of commissary food; those are not good things. I'd also hazard a guess you're close to being anemic so the last syringe contains an iron supplement. I'd rather you not fall over from exhaustion or experience shortness of breath in case you have to exert yourself on your upcoming mission."

It wasn't difficult to understand how this petite and nice-looking woman could handle a whole base of mostly military men, Sam thought at the Doctor's stern look. Still, she didn't have to make it sound like Sam would keel over any minute now because she had bad taste in food… okay, so she preferred to eat on base – the Pentagon food wasn't _that_  bad – because she didn't want to cook for just herself in her empty DC apartment. Her eating habits had never caused her any trouble in the past and she preferred to blame her workaholic streak for her occasional fatigue rather than anemia, seeing as she had never actually been diagnosed as being anemic – just close to it. Eying the syringes warily, she sighed. "Can't I just take oral supplements?"

Doctor Fraiser quirked an eyebrow as she reached for the nearest syringe. "Normally, yes. But this way the effects will be quicker and those SOPs I mentioned earlier include no daily medication, like oral supplements. Speaking of which, your file said you were on birth control." When Sam nodded she continued. "Considering women on SG teams  _are_  in fact fighting on the front line I want all of them to be on contraceptives and I don't think I have to tell you it's more than a precaution."

Gulping, she shook her head. Rape was one of the dangers for women in combat situations and something she – and all women in the military – had been warned about plenty of times at the Academy and when she was deployed. Her father, himself a two-star general by now, had also warned her about the dangers for women, telling her more than once that it was still considered a man's world and that not all the danger would necessarily come from the foreign enemies. He hadn't been wrong either, because she had heard of several sexual assaults during her time at the Academy.

So far, Sam considered herself lucky having never found herself in such circumstances. But she also knew that if she was ever sexually assaulted she would be more than grateful for her birth control. "I understand."

"Good," the other woman said. "You're on the pill, right? Like I said daily medication is too dangerous in case you lose your pack, have to abandon it for some reason or are taken captive."

"You want me to switch to something else, like an IUD?"

"Yes, although a copper IUD increases bleeding, which might not be the best option if you're prone to anemia. For you and most women here I would recommend Depo-Provera instead, which is a progestin-only contraceptive and needs to be injected every three months. If used as intended it reduces the chance of getting pregnant within the first year to oh point three percent, whereas an IUD with copper has an oh point six percent chance."

Sam wanted to correct her and point out that she had never been diagnosed as anemic but had to admit to herself that an IUD didn't sound like the most pleasant of options. What was one more injection every three months if they would be drawing her blood and giving her all kinds of shots every mission anyway? Not to mention that an oh point three difference would be unacceptable for any of her scientific experiments so why wouldn't she choose the safest option when it came to contraceptives? Not that condoms wouldn't minimize the risk anyway but even those could tear as she had just experienced a few hours ago! "Um, I think the injection sounds good. Best to be as safe as possible, right?"

"Very well. Are you on your active or inactive pills right now?"

"Um, active," she replied after a beat. The moment it took her to recall reminded her that she hadn't taken today's pill yet, which was not like her; spending the night with Jack and then having her whole world turned upside down by being sent here ASAP had thrown her off her routine. Normally she would take it after breakfast – which usually consisted of a cup of coffee – after brushing her teeth at home but before leaving for work.

Doctor Fraiser gestured for her to expose her buttock for her injections and continued. "In that case I need you to come back to me when you've taken your last active pill. When switching from oral contraceptives to Depo-Provera you should get the first shot after your last active pill but before your last inactive pill."

"That's in two weeks," Sam said more confidently.

"Well, we can set up an appointment for your first shot after those two weeks then. Just make sure it's in the week right after, okay Captain?"

She nodded, making a mental note to check her pills afterwards and pen an appointment into her schedule as she turned around and slipped her skirt and underwear down slightly. The cotton ball disinfecting the skin was barely gone or the first needle punctured her skin, making her grimace. It wasn't really painful, more uncomfortable, but Sam knew how those injections tended to leave her bruised and sore for a few days at least and wasn't looking forward to it. But in this case her buttocks was probably best considering she would undoubtedly be using her arms a lot; even holding a weapon – probably a P90 or MP5 – for most of the day would be quite the challenge after so many years in a lab!

Five minutes later the CMO was done and went over to the other side of the room to wash her hands and rummage in a cupboard, while Sam was left in the curtained cubicle to right her clothes and ignore the soft throbbing in her buttock. At least she wouldn't have to spend the rest of the day sitting behind a computer or in her lab, she thought. When she looked up again and leaned against the infirmary bed, Doctor Fraiser was walking towards her while writing on a chart and holding something under her arm.

"General Hammond told me you have medical field training?"

"Yes, it was extremely useful when I was deployed during the Gulf War. Since then I've been mostly stuck at the Pentagon but I kept up with the training," Sam reassured her, as she watched her put the chart away and take the item from under her arm.

Doctor Fraiser laid down the item – a medkit – and showed her the contents. "Every team has at least one medkit on them but since SG-7 is the science and medical team you and Airman Adams will both be equipped with one. I would of course prefer to give every single person going off-world one in their pack but unfortunately we are suffering from budget constraints and the teams losing their packs off-world aren't helping the matter. Now, this little baby should be able to keep someone alive until they get safely back to the infirmary when in the hands of the right person. Most of it is standard but there are also some items we've added specifically for situations encountered off-world. Different sizes of trauma pad dressings, Coban dressings, non-stick gauze dressings, battle dressings, more sterile gauze, ace bandages, band aids, duct tape, gloves, sutures, various splints, antiseptic wipes, retractors, antibiotic shots and creams, regular painkillers, morphine, IV fluid kit, saline solutions, Ambu bag, syringes, IV catheters for thoracentesis, tubes, pads, scissors, scalpel, blades, ethanol, epinephrine, lidocaine…"

Sam listened and watched as the CMO continued to list and point out all the items in the medkit, relieved to realize it wasn't all that different from what she was used to. Well, except for the emphasis on treating burn wounds rather than projectile weapons but that was probably because Jaffa were outfitted with staff weapons which caused severe burn wounds but also cauterized the injuries. She was confident she could treat her teammates and CO or even alien natives if it came down to it; she just hoped it wouldn't be needed. At least not on her first mission! Then again, General Hammond had indicated this was more of an observation of an alien phenomenon on a friendly world, so she was probably just overreacting. Doctor Fraiser just wanted her to be prepared in case it was necessary.

"Well, I think that's all for now. You probably have a briefing to get to, anyway."

Checking her watch, Sam realized she still had a little under an hour before she had to report to the briefing room. "Thanks, Doctor Fraiser. I should probably get something to eat before the mission."

The CMO nodded in agreement. "There is a cafeteria on level twenty-two and the commissary on level three, so you make sure to have a good breakfast. Going through the Stargate on an empty stomach is not pleasant, trust me."

"Oh, do you know if Doctor Jackson is on duty today and if so, where I can find his office?" She figured he probably wouldn't mind joining her for breakfast, if he wasn't busy with some research.

The woman looked at her with curiosity before replying. "Normally, he spends most of his days on base but today he's with Cassandra."

"Cassandra?"

"The alien girl who came through the 'gate about a week ago. She was the sole survivor of an attack by the Goa'uld Nirrti; I consulted you about the naquadah and potassium device implanted in her chest."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected to ever find out what happened to the girl since the Xenophysics Department only had access to off-world mission reports and alien technology, not alien refugees. "Oh? Is she all right?"

"Thanks to you, yes," the Doctor said, smiling. "If it hadn't been for your explanation about the bomb Colonel O'Neill never would have figured out that the distance to the 'gate was crucial. Once he got her away far enough she woke up from her coma and upon further examination in the Academy Hospital, we learned the object was shrinking and is being reabsorbed into her system. That's where she is staying for the moment and Doctor Jackson volunteered to keep her company today until the bomb is gone and she can be adopted by people with the right clearance."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"And I, for one, am glad to have you here, Captain. You've been very helpful with Cassandra, the dialing computer and even with the nanocites that caused accelerated aging in Colonel O'Neill! I can only imagine what a contribution to the Program you can make now that you're actually stationed here."

So that's why Jack had looked so familiar! Back when the CMO had asked for her help on the nano-virus she had gotten two pictures, a before and current one to show the accelerated aging but never the patient's name and at the time it hadn't seemed relevant to her. Sam could feel her cheeks burning at the realization – no wonder Jack had thought of condoms if the exchanging of bodily fluids had caused him to age rapidly in the past! "Um, thank you, Doctor."

"Don't mention it," Fraiser said, collecting her things. "Oh and Captain? Good luck on your mission!"

* * *

An hour later Sam was listening to General Hammond and Major Ferretti, the CO of SG-2, in the briefing room as they explained the parameters of the mission.

"Colonel Makepeace's team had taken the first recon mission to P3X-425 and my team got called in to deal with the natives and learn more about their fascinating weather phenomenon and the advanced technology that kept them safe during the yearly event as well as safe from any eruptions from a nearby active volcano," Ferretti explained. "It was one of the first missions for SG-3 – they're the only team of Marines - and early on in the Program."

Hammond nodded and took over the explanation, turning to Sam's team. "It was about six months ago but apparently SG-2 had made a mix-up with the natives' calendar. They've contacted us as it has already been a year for them and the storms started an Earth week earlier than we expected."

Lieutenant Colonel Sean Grieves was sitting to Sam's left, to the right of General Hammond at the head of the table. The Colonel had introduced himself to Sam in the commissary earlier for breakfast. He'd already read her file and recognized her from her picture and invited her to join their table, where Lieutenant Isaacs and Airman Adams had been eating breakfast as well.

Sam's first impression of her forty-something, balding commanding officer was that he was courteous but not overfriendly and clearly kept his distance from his team to make sure they saw him as their commander and not their buddy no doubt.

Lieutenant Isaacs on the other hand was maybe a few years younger than Sam herself at twenty-eight but he had a stockier build, brownish hair in a military buzz and friendly eyes. Airman Adams was in his early twenties but looked more a boy than a man, with his young baby face and bright eyes, and he seemed very amiable yet respectful of their higher ranks.

Her teammates were paying close attention to everything Major Ferretti was now telling them about Goa'uld and Jaffa in general, most of which Sam was already aware of due to reading the mission reports and being in touch with Doctor Jackson via email.

"… there is no reason to believe you will be encountering Jaffa on this mission," General Hammond said, "but you undoubtedly will at some point during your missions and since we don't have the people or time to train every new team and ease them into their off-world missions, a lesson now might be the best option. Aside from SG-1, Major Ferretti's team has the most off-world experience and he also had a look at the device these people have. Normally, I would suggest his team accompany you on this mission but as you can see," he gestured at the cast covering the Major's arm, "they encountered some problems on their last mission."

Ferretti blushed in response and shrugged. "There was a little cave in and when I tried to avoid getting a big rock on my head I landed somewhat unfortunately. Two of my men are still in the infirmary, one with a knee injury and the other broke his leg in two places."

"We'll be sure to avoid any caves then," Lieutenant Colonel Grieves said with a small smile.

The Major chuckled and took some pictures and papers from the folder in front of him with his good hand and handed them over to Lieutenant Isaacs sitting next to him. "Those are some of the pictures of the terrain, village, volcano and the storm itself. By the time we actually witnessed the event we had gone through most of the film so there isn't much there, but it'll give you an idea of the layout of the village and such."

"The papers are copies of SG-3's mission report and you can read them after the briefing before you gear up," Hammond said.

"You mentioned these aliens contacted  _us_  to inform us about the storm, General. I thought they were primitive folks?"

Hammond nodded in reply to Grieves' question. "That's correct, Colonel."

"We gave them a Sagan Box when we left, Sir," Major Ferretti said. "They threw it back through the open wormhole to alert us and we sent a MALP back to talk to them."

General Hammond shifted in his chair and looked slightly abashed. "They kindly informed us that the weather was already changing and if we wanted to do any observations prior to the phenomenon then we should come as soon as possible."

"That was very thoughtful of them," Grieves said, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"We promised them some basic agricultural tools in return for their cooperation," Ferretti said. "The FRED has already been loaded with supplies for them as well as all the equipment Lieutenant Isaacs and Captain Carter might need for their readings and to take samples."

"All right, I guess that's everything you need to know," General Hammond stated. "Your mission objective is to study this phenomenon and the mysterious device that keeps these people safe. They have given us permission to study it but under no circumstances are we allowed to touch or move it without express permission from one of the elders. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Sir" was heard from Sam and her team, accompanied by various heads nodding in affirmation.

"It isn't entirely clear whether this phenomenon is a yearly event or not but we do know it has grown more intense the last few times and the volcano shows more activity as well. I want you to recon the area to see if it would be possible for us to build a semi-permanent observatory there in the future, like we did on Hanka. Just make sure it's far away from the volcano yet within reach of the device," he elaborated.

"Sir," Sam said, "do we know how this device protects these people? Is it a shield of some kind or-"

"That's what I'm hoping you'll be able to tell us when you return, Captain."

"Yes Sir."


	6. SG-7

**Peterson AFB**   
**Colorado Springs, CO**   
**August 1, 1997**

Jack was walking towards the base motor pool, his bag slung over his shoulder and his other hand holding a briefcase as he nodded every now and then at passing officers. The trip from DC hadn't been too bad but then his standards weren't very high, being accustomed to military hops and worse during his years in black ops and the past six months doing off-world missions on foot had left him grateful for airplanes in general. The actual meetings in DC had been bad, though. Not necessarily  _bad_  but he hated dealing with the brass and the city itself, not to mention having to wear his damn dress blues all the time.

General Hammond so owed him for these past two days.

As if the briefings themselves weren't bad enough, he had to relive the whole Hathor experience again and explain everything in detail. Considering he had been brainwashed by that nasty breath of her, Jack hadn't been all too aware of the events on base during the incident and thus he'd been forced to watch security tapes and meetings with Doc Fraiser and the other women who'd saved their asses prior to his trip. Naturally, the JCS and the President had been intrigued – and frightened – by his own experience of being turned into a Jaffa, no matter how temporarily and it had made Jack uncomfortable to say the least to have to talk about it to them. Then there was the whole Hathor procreation thing with Daniel, which made him feel even worse knowing how bad Daniel still felt over the whole thing.

Still, even Jack could see Hammond was right about the importance of these events because now they knew more about the Goa'uld. Not even Teal'c, the former First Prime of Apophis, had known about the Queens; only that there was an old Jaffa legend that said the Goa'uld originated from a Queen, but nothing about her breath or the fact that she could create new Jaffa. Knowing how close Hathor had come to taking over the base or even the entire planet was frightening and if it hadn't been for Doc Fraiser, a handful of female SFs and Teal'c they would now all be serving that snake head. The higher-ups had been shocked by the information Jack had relayed and quick to approve of the extra security measures he had proposed, providing Hammond managed to get the funds from the SGC's budget of this year or wait until the beginning of the new fiscal year in two months…

Jack sighed and silently cursed the politics that were involved in keeping the Program alive as he entered the motor pool.

"Sir!" An Airman on duty immediately jumped to attention upon seeing his uniform. "I'll get you a Humvee, Colonel."

As Jack waited for his ride he lowered his bag and the briefcase to the ground and tried to surreptitiously get a few kinks out of his back from being cramped in the plane. These last two days in DC had been hell with boring meetings that went on for hours on end and the fact that he hadn't gotten much sleep last night didn't help either…

Sam.

He smiled, thinking back to the evening in the bar and the night they'd spent in his hotel room. The first time he'd laid eyes on her in the bar his interest had been piqued. He had a thing for tall blondes, and her behavior had made her all the more intriguing. Jack hadn't been disappointed when he challenged her to a game of pool. She turned out to have a great sense of humor, a great body, a killer smile and mesmerizing blue eyes. The first time she smiled at him triumphantly with those twinkling eyes he'd been a goner for sure. To his surprise she had started flirting with him big time.

Over the course of the evening innocent brushes of fingers had turned into a hand on her arm, a bump of their shoulders, a lingering hand on the small of her back and her hip leaning against his… The innocent touches had grown bolder and less accidental as the evening progressed and both had had more to drink, eventually culminating in him asking her to back to his hotel room around closing time.

He hadn't been lying when he told her picking up women in a bar wasn't his usual MO and he still wasn't sure what had convinced him to take her up on her flirting. Sure, she was gorgeous and totally hot but that had never been reason enough for him to sleep with a woman. He simply wasn't one for casual sex, at least not since outgrowing his teenage years and settling down with Sara, his ex-wife. After the divorce there had been some interest from other women but he hadn't taken them up on their offers, even though they had all been attractive.

Of course, there had been that incident on Argos with Kynthia… but Jack would never have acted on any kind of attraction he may have felt if it hadn't been for the drugged cake she had given him! It had been difficult for him to come to terms with what had happened on that planet aside from the venereal disease from hell she'd given him, although he had kept his façade up for his team. He figured Teal'c wouldn't understand why he felt violated and both Daniel and Kershaw would feel guilt-ridden if they knew the truth. Daniel because he hadn't warned him about the alien customs and how accepting a seemingly harmless cake meant he agreed to marry a pretty young native who took him to bed with her and Lieutenant Kershaw would feel bad about assuming he wanted to get laid rather than questioning his actions in the field as a 2IC was supposed to do.

Jack didn't blame his team, though and he also understood that Kynthia hadn't meant him any harm and in her innocence thought he knew about the cake's meaning and effects. Still, he had been unable to consent and that didn't sit well with Jack, regardless of the perpetrator's motivations or naivety. He groaned, recalling his babbled explanation to Sam about the whole ordeal. He had meant to reassure her about his health and considering how embarrassed she'd seemed when confessing that she hadn't been intimate with anyone in a long time, he had wanted to reciprocate until he remembered there  _had_  been the 'incident' with Kynthia and he couldn't exactly tell her a thirty-one-day-old alien woman had given him cake and date-raped him!

God, Sam must have thought he was an idiot! No wonder she had left after taking a quick shower. It really was a shame, because she had intrigued him and Jack could have sworn he felt some kind of connection between them. It hadn't felt like a one-night stand to him, at least; yeah, the sex had been great but he had enjoyed spending time with her too and wanted to get to know her better. Just his luck that the only woman who had caught his eye in a long time lived in a different state. Hell, who was he kidding? She was hot and quite a bit younger than he was, so she probably had guys lining up for her even if she didn't take them all up on their offers.

Jack tried to shrug it off; Sam had made it pretty clear a relationship wasn't in the cards and even he had to admit she deserved better than some disillusioned, older flyboy with tons of emotional baggage and a dangerous job that took him  _off-world_  on a regular basis.

He would just have to be content with the memory of the night he spent with her, Jack decided as a Humvee drove up to him.

"If you could just sign here, Colonel," the airman said, handing him a clipboard.

Jack slipped on his sunglasses and signed the necessary paperwork before slipping behind the wheel. Driving over to the security checkpoint he decided to focus on his job rather than a woman he'd never see again, knowing he would have to debrief Hammond about his meetings with the brass and then he and his team had a mission scheduled to… some backwater planet of which he couldn't recall the designation.

* * *

**P3X-425**   
**Milky Way Galaxy**

Sam was slightly breathless from the trip through the gate and her nausea hadn't abated yet even though she'd tossed her breakfast minutes after exiting the wormhole – but not before securing the perimeter, unlike Isaacs who'd stumbled out of the wormhole after her and immediately lost the contents of his stomach. As a matter of fact, she thought, her eyes moving to the stocky Lieutenant, he was still looking a bit greenish and almost hungover. It had gone better for Airman Adams who had told them during breakfast that he'd already been on a handful of off-world missions with other teams since his assignment here two months ago. Their commanding officer had looked unperturbed by the trip, which was probably down to his black ops past, yet had looked disapprovingly at Adams' actions and Sam could only hope he hadn't glared the same way at her when she had been vomiting.

Now, Colonel Grieves was taking point on their trek to the village with his balding head hidden under a cap and his weapon at the ready, despite assurances that these natives were friendlies. She hadn't let her guard down either and kept scanning their surroundings for any potential threats. There hadn't been anyone waiting for them at the stargate and in the two klicks they'd walked they hadn't encountered anyone else either. There weren't any bird sounds – assuming there would be birds on an alien planet, she thought with a smile – but that was probably down to the upcoming storm which had already darkened the sky.

The weight of the MP5 in Sam's hands felt strange, something she hadn't experienced in a long time. Aside from her usual target practice she hardly held any kind of gun and certainly not for hours on end, like today. Still, the feeling wasn't entirely unwelcome and apart from any blisters that might start forming at the end of the day she could get used to this. The planet – P3X-425, she reminded herself – didn't look all that alien to her and reminded her a bit of some of the camping trips her dad used to take them on. But she figured that would change once they had reached the volcano as even Jacob Carter wasn't stubborn enough to put his tent next to an active volcano.

After another five minutes of walking they could hear voices and other sounds coming from a distance and Grieves signaled for them to remain quiet. The village turned out to be in a clearing in the forest – jungle more likely, just not as humid or as warm – and the natives spotted them quickly enough. A bunch of children dressed in loincloths ran away excitedly, shouting something in an alien language presumably to alert the other villagers.

Soon enough an elderly man came towards them and Grieves beckoned Adams over to his side, knowing the young Airman had some off-world experience and knew a few words of the language courtesy to Major Ferretti's team. Sam and Isaacs hung back; he was guarding the FRED loaded with supplies and she kept an eye out for any threats while simultaneously enjoying the fact that she was laying eyes on aliens! She smiled to herself as the natives came closer and started chattering while pointing at her and the Lieutenant, probably thinking the same thing.

"Okay," the Colonel said turning back to them, "it looks like everything is in order. The chief is rounding up some guides to take us to the volcano so you two can take readings and whatnot, after which the guides will take us to their, um, device. We're not sure but it sounds like it's in the other direction and the chief will be waiting there for us since the device is sacred to them and they won't allow us to see it on our own. Lieutenant, you follow him to the village center to take the FRED there and start unloading the damn thing. Captain, keep an eye on our equipment while Adams and I go to meet our guides."

"Yes Sir," Sam nodded and quickly moved to take one of the cases that held Isaacs' equipment from the FRED, before the Lieutenant steered the transport vehicle away. Most of the villagers scattered about which made her feel a bit better about staying in this location on her own but she remained vigilant nonetheless.

* * *

**Stargate Command**   
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**

Debriefing General Hammond about the meetings in DC had taken over an hour and by the time Jack was done he was craving some coffee. The lack of sleep combined with dealing with the higher-ups for most of the day was really starting to tire him out. On the hop back he had managed to get some shuteye but he could certainly do with some caffeine right about now. Maybe he could meet his team in the commissary for some coffee and cake before their mission, he mused.

"Very well, Colonel," Hammond said, "I'll have someone take this up to accounting to see if they can find a way to cover the approved security measures in our budget." He closed the folder he'd been given and put it in his out tray, before scrutinizing him. "Are you feeling all right, Jack? You look a bit tired… I can postpone SG-1's upcoming mission to Monday to give you the weekend to get some rest. I'm sure Doctor Jackson could use a few days off the base as well with everything that has happened recently. He didn't seem keen on the idea of taking some time off to deal with the Hathor debacle but perhaps he'll be more inclined to accept it if it's coming from you. Lieutenant Kershaw and Teal'c certainly deserve a few days off at the very least for their participation in saving the base but with the attack on Hanka and the complications with the alien girl your team brought back it's been far too hectic for them to enjoy some time off."

Jack waved his arguments away, knowing his team would prefer to keep going. "Nah, I'll be fine, Sir. Just need some coffee. It weren't exactly the two most exciting days for me and I've hardly been off my backside. I'll just drag Daniel away from whatever alien artifact he's playing with and get the rest of the team to join us in the commissary. Heck, I might even take Teal'c up on his offer to spar before our next briefing."

The General gave him an appraising look. "Well, if you think that's best, Colonel. I do want you to get your pre-mission checkup done after we finish here and if Doctor Fraiser disagrees with you, I will not authorize your mission."

"Very well, Sir," he said. "Did I miss anything while I was gone?"

"Like I told you during our phone conversation yesterday we were contacted by the natives of P3X-425 to alert us to their extraordinary weather phenomenon and the growing activity of their volcano."

Jack nodded, recalling the call and planet he was referring to. It turned out those Sagan Boxes they handed to friendly races were actually useful for other things than giving a brief summary about the humans on Earth! Go figure. He wondered if Daniel already knew what the natives had done with his precious gift explaining the various cultures, religions and histories of Earth? Hmm, perhaps he shouldn't go look him up just yet… "Yes, SG-7 was supposed to handle that follow-up mission, weren't they? After they finished up on Hanka?"

"That's right," Hammond said, his features reflecting his feelings over SG-7's untimely demise by the Goa'uld Nirrti on Hanka. "I know you suggested sending SG-2 to P3X-425 but unfortunately there were some complications-"

"What happened? Are Ferretti and his team all right?"

"They're fine, son. There was a small cave-in while they were finishing up their recon: Major Ferretti has a small fracture in his arm but Pierce broke his leg in two places and Warren sprained his knee."

Jack leaned back in his chair, reassured that his old friend Lou and his team were going to be fine. "What about Casey?"

A small grin appeared on Hammond's face and his eyes twinkled. "He was unharmed but was pretty beat from getting his teammates back to the 'gate. According to the grapevine Ferretti has him spending his time in the infirmary, waiting on Pierce and Warren."

"Well, I'm glad to learn Lou is still as attentive as ever," he joked.

"SG-2 will be off the mission roster for a few weeks until all members are fully recovered, although Casey will be available as an extra body on other teams starting next week."

"What about that scientific mission, Sir?"

General Hammond sighed and looked a bit troubled. "Well, you're not going to like this, Jack, but I've gone ahead with assembling a new team in SG-7's stead. Now, I know what you're going to say but these people on P3X-425 have advanced alien technology that keeps them safe from extreme weather conditions and who knows what else."

"Yeah," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The JCS reminded me more than once that we still haven't brought back any useful advanced technology…" His voice trailed off and he made a vague hand gesture, knowing his CO would understand what their superiors had been hinting at. Still, the fact they were being pressured into retrieving alien goodies for the defense of the planet or other useful means didn't mean they should start creating teams on a whim and sending them through the 'gate without any proper training! "So, how bad is it?"

"The team?" Hammond asked, chuckling softly. "I haven't assigned any medical personnel like we discussed before you left for DC, because their talents are probably better used in the infirmary under Doctor Fraiser. However, two members do have field medical training, which is more than most teams."

Jack nodded, knowing he was the only one on his team with any medical training – it had certainly come in handy the numerous times he'd gotten injured during his black ops days – and it was much the same for the other eight… well, seven, teams. Apparently this new SG-7 had two qualified members which was a step in the right direction in his opinion, as he had already suggested having more people qualified in medical field training, considering the situations they encountered on a weekly basis at the SGC.

Sighing, he tried to recall the qualifications John Smith's team that had been killed on Hanka. "What about the rest of them? I know we discussed another all-science team but I'm worried they'd all get themselves killed getting caught up in something nice and shiny. Like how Daniel becomes completely oblivious to any form of danger when confronted with an interesting alien culture, artifact or drawing."

"I'm well aware of your opinion of scientists, Colonel. The new members of SG-7 all have varying degrees of combat training-"

Jack winced and interrupted the General. "Now, see! That's what worries me! How much combat experience are we talking about here, Sir?"

"I've assigned Lieutenant Colonel Sean Grieves as the commanding officer…"

"Never heard of the guy."

Hammond gave him a reproving look before he continued. "Most of his file is classified but his background isn't too dissimilar from yours, just less… colorful."

"Ah, well, I guess that means he's at least qualified to lead a team into the field. But the 'gate, Sir?"

"Son, we're all going in blind because nothing on Earth could have prepared us for what we do here on a daily basis, but we can't let that stop us from sending teams through the stargate. There has to be a first time for everything and Colonel Grieves' time has just come. Now, his second-in-command has logged over 100 hours in enemy airspace during the Gulf War, completed simulated bombing runs in an F-16, is an excellent marksman and is experienced in hand-to-hand combat as well as the aforementioned medical field training."

"That doesn't sound too bad," he replied. As a matter of fact, it sounded pretty good compared to some of the officers on base and if he was honest, this guy sounded more qualified than his own 2IC! "He didn't apply before when we started forming the teams or does he have some kind of issue like that guy from SG-9 who went wacko?"

Hammond chuckled in response even though the matter of SG-9 was no laughing matter. "You're wondering why Grieves got her as his second and not you," he stated, clearly seeing through his act. "I think you can guess about the downside considering the team's designation."

Jack groaned when he realized why it was so amusing. "A scientist, of course!" And a woman, no less. Interesting. Not a bad idea, considering the Hathor debacle, but it might prove an additional challenge off-world, like he had experienced with Kershaw. "What a shame. I guess we'll just have to hope  _she_  doesn't get too caught up in the wonders of the universe or they might all get killed. What about the rest?"

"A lieutenant with little field experience but degrees in meteorology and geology and Airman Adams-"

"That the kid who rotated among the off-world teams these past few weeks?"

The General looked mildly irritated at being interrupted again but nodded anyway. "Yes, Airman Adams has two months of experience in off-world missions and he is the second member with medical training."

Jack hadn't had the chance to take the kid out with SG-1, his hands were already full with a recently turned Jaffa, a wayward civilian scientist and a green 2IC, but he had heard good things about him from other team commanders. "Did he finish that course Daniel's been teaching the others?"

"About the Goa'uld and their language? No, but Colonel Makepeace signed off on his off-world training last week and the other commanders who've taken him out all mentioned he was doing well and had already picked up on some of the language. Ferretti and his men gave him some instructions too before they left for P3X-425."

Confused, he frowned and went back over their earlier conversation in his head. "They're already off-world?! I thought you said SG-2 was off the roster?"

"Yes  _Colonel,_  but Major Ferretti sat in on the briefing since his team had already been to the planet  _and_  he had been the one who'd examined the alien device briefly."

"Then who's accompanying SG-7 to the planet, Sir? Makepeace?" Jack questioned, vaguely recalling the original mission having been led by the Marines but SG-2 had been called in by Makepeace because of Ferretti's engineering knowledge, however limited.

General Hammond shook his head with a resigned look on his face. "I'm afraid we didn't have an extra team to spare; your team and SG-4 were on downtime, SG-2 on medical leave, SG-5 is setting up that long-term mining expedition for naquadah, SG-3 and SG-8 are on separate off-world missions and the other two teams are on leave. I had to send a team to P3X-425 as soon as possible and our newly-formed SG-7 has the talent and skills required for this mission."

"What about SG-1? You said you could postpone our mission to Monday, Sir, so why not let us go as backup?"

"This is one of the easiest missions we could hope for a new team: we have already established friendly relations with the natives and if the conditions allow it we will probably draw up a treaty with them to get our own observatory there in return for more agricultural tools and advice. We're spread thin and we can't afford to babysit every new team for their first few missions, Colonel. The brass was very clear on this as they think it's a waste of time, money and effort."

Jack snorted and had to suppress the effort to roll his eyes. "Yes, never mind the fact they could get killed and we lose four good people."

"Trust me, I've tried all kinds of arguments but they do have a point that your team and several others did fine too in spite of going in blind."

"Well yeah, but we only survived because Teal'c had a change of heart and switched sides. We did lose Kawalsky due to what happened on Chulak, Sir," he reminded his CO. "Not to mention that Hanson guy went nuts and killed half of his own team on their first long-term mission. No one saw that coming either, so the Goa'uld aren't the only dangers our people face out there."

The General sighed, clearly understanding the points he was trying to make. "I know, but you try telling the President 'no' when he tells you to get a team out there ASAP upon learning the natives might have the means to create a forcefield or something that can protect them against the forces of nature and possibly enemy attack! SG-7 left before you even had lunch, Jack. Even if I could get permission for SG-1 to join them now, the team has too big a head start for you to catch up now."

Jack had to concede the man made a point and nodded reluctantly. "I guess. If that was all, Sir, I'd like to get that coffee now before I let the CMO poke me full of holes."

"Very well," Hammond chuckled and glanced at his watch, "you better get going or you'll be late for SG-1's briefing on your next mission. Dismissed!"


	7. Honor

**P3X-425**   
**Milky Way Galaxy**

It had taken them three hours to reach the volcano and the rest of the day had been spent investigating the impressive formation; doing measurements, taking soil, mineral and water samples, and collecting other kinds of data with their instruments. After a quick bite to eat – bland MREs – they had made their way over to the compound where the alien device was housed but with darkness falling already Sam had barely gotten a glance at it before the Colonel had ordered them to set up camp nearby. The days on this planet were four hours shorter than on Earth and with the storm gathering there hadn't been many hours of daylight to begin with, so now they were huddled around a campfire.

Lieutenant Colonel Grieves was doing a last round of the perimeter while Airman Adams was keeping an eye out from his log, MP5 resting on his lap and Sam was hunched over the laptop with Lieutenant Isaacs. The Lieutenant had instructed her on what kind of samples and readings to take earlier when they had been studying the volcano and Sam had just finished entering the data into the computer.

Today had been her first time near a volcano, let alone an active one that would erupt soon and she had been amazed by what she had seen. Even Isaacs had been impressed and although he had protested several times that he wasn't a volcanologist – he only had minimal knowledge from his geology background – whenever Grieves or Adams asked him for something specific, he had done a thorough job as far as she could tell. The only problem was that the Lieutenant couldn't seem to make up his mind about what kind of volcano they were dealing with: some of his observations contradicted each other. Hopefully the data they'd collected could give them more answers.

Although Sam's background didn't make her anywhere near qualified to investigate volcanoes on her own she  _was_  able to deduce what the results from her tests meant. The summit lake near the volcano was strongly affected, which she could tell not only from the fact that it had changed color but also the water's pH and temperature.

"Lieutenant, do you remember what our guide told us about the summit lake?"

Isaacs looked up from the test results on the screen and glanced her way. "You mean that the natives use it for bathing and as drinking water, Ma'am?"

"Look at these numbers," she said, pointing out the dissolved minerals from the water. "If this is the normal composition of the lake's water then it's a miracle the natives haven't died from ingesting it."

"Maybe they're immune to the high amounts," Isaacs suggested, shrugging. "They're aliens, after all."

"Maybe." Sam saved the processed readings and hooked the universal tricorder device up to the laptop. The UTD had been specifically designed for SG teams in the field by her department – she had designed it herself – and it had given her a little thrill to finally use it herself to take environmental readings in situ. "I'm importing the recorded data from the lake's gases and the ones escaping the volcano's fumaroles into your program, Lieutenant."

Isaacs looked up for permission before taking the laptop from her and adjusting the parameters of the readings. "It'll just take a sec to adjust, Captain."

Once everything was processed, she pointed at the first results. "What does the composition of these gases tell us?"

"Well, Ma'am," Isaacs said, scrunching up his brow, "normally the composition can be quite telling but considering these are our first readings it's hard to say. We don't have anything to compare them with except for the ones taken at different intervals today and as you can see there  _are_  some miniscule changes throughout the day."

Sam squinted at where he was pointing at the monitor and nodded in agreement. "These are normal gases, though?"

"Yes, they are the kind of gases one would expect coming from an active volcano close to erupting," he smirked, "even though we are on a different planet."

"What about this increase in temperature?"

Lieutenant Isaacs hit some keys on the laptop and the temperature data transferred from her UTD was outlined in a graph. "Anomalous increases in temperature can be a sign that magma has moved closer to the surface," he explained. "Now, the problem is that these temperature and gas readings don't compute with what we know of volcanoes." He tapped the keyboard again and several graphs appeared which made it easier to compare the data. "Hawaiian volcanoes for example tend to erupt basalt, which is low in viscosity and gas content but reaches high temperatures of twelve hundred degrees Celsius; the other extreme are rhyolite magmas which are often found in the caldera type volcano and they have low temperatures but high gas content and very high viscosity."

"Because the gas that is present in Hawaiian volcanoes can readily escape so little pressure builds up in the magma," Sam stated, recalling what he had been telling them earlier today about the different kind of volcanoes.

"Exactly."

"But it's different for rhyolite magmas because the gas can't escape, so gas bubbles expand which increases the pressure until the volcano erupts?"

Isaacs was bobbing his head during her explanation and called up other information on the laptop. "As you can see these are conflicting results. At least, if we apply the knowledge of Earth volcanoes on them. Now, I could definitely already spot some visual changes in the two fumarole areas I inspected by the end of the day and with the dead plants and changing color of the lake nearby, I'd say there are enough indications of impending activity-"

"Captain, Lieutenant," Grieves called out as he neared their camp, "what have you got? Do we need to hike back to that damned volcano again tomorrow so you two can play with your instruments or what?"

Sam could tell their CO's brusque attitude had a negative effect on the Lieutenant so she decided to reply. "We have entered all the data into the computer and are still running some simulations but Lieutenant Isaacs thinks the volcano will erupt soon; we just don't know what kind of eruption we have to expect, Sir."

"I, um," Isaacs cleared his throat awkwardly before trying again, "I don't think it's necessary to go back to the volcano in the morning, Sir. The small vent I inspected had increasing concentrations of sulfur dioxide in its fume and once the storm breaks, it will combine with water in the atmosphere to form sulfuric acid droplets. The seismometers picked up several small earthquakes indicating magma movement and while more monitoring over the next couple of days would give us a better idea of where the magma is heading – migrating towards the surface or not – I don't think that's a good idea. We are already awaiting a major storm and once the volcano's eruption comes closer the weather is only going to get worse if it releases ash particles into the atmosphere as well, because that'll result in a lot of rain, lightning and thunder, Colonel."

"So, more data won't tell you anything you don't already know?"

The Lieutenant shook his head in reply to Grieves' question. "No, Sir. The data Captain Carter and I collected gives contradictory indications of what type of volcano – and therefore what kind of eruption – we are dealing with. It's possible this is simply a type we haven't encountered yet on Earth and thus it will be impossible to predict what's going to happen when, but I do think any eruption will happen in the next few days."

Airman Adams looked a bit nervous at that, glancing off in the general direction of the volcano. "I guess it's a good thing we're supposed to leave the day after tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," Grieves said. "Adams, I want you to take first watch, Captain Carter will take second and I'll relieve her. That way Lieutenant Isaacs can take the last shift and warn us if anything unexpected is going to happen."

The Lieutenant chuckled softly in response. "I'm afraid it won't be that easy, Sir, but I'll gladly take last watch."

"We're safe here, though. Right, Sir?"

Colonel Grieves gave the Airman a reassuring smile. "Yeah, we're fine here, Adams. We're far enough away from the volcano if it does decide to go off in the middle of the night and can easily pack up and leave right away with the valley in between. Besides, our guides reassured us that even if something were to happen we will be protected by that magical cone of theirs."

"I doubt the device is magical, Sir," Sam couldn't help but say. Fortunately, Grieves only smirked at her before he headed into his tent, leaving her alone with her thoughts on the alien device she would be examining tomorrow. It had been a bit disappointing to see it looked like a stainless steel cone because she had expected something more impressive –  _alien_  - but that didn't dampen her curiosity about its purpose and inner workings. Yawning, she stretched her aching legs and slowly got up, ready to hit the sack.

* * *

**Stargate Command**   
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**   
**August 2, 1997**

It was the second day of their mission and Jack was annoyed to be back at the SGC. It had been hours since he and Lieutenant Kershaw had returned in the hopes of assembling a combat unit to retrieve Teal'c, who was being put on trial by Hanno for murdering the man's father years ago while still in the service of Apophis. Much to Jack's surprise and indignation Hammond had refused, claiming Teal'c wasn't one of them simply because he'd been born on another planet! Kershaw had tried to convince the General by mentioning what an important source of information on the Goa'uld  _and_  other cultures and planets Teal'c was, but Hammond had been adamant that they had to respect the laws of other cultures and that the US wouldn't stop pursuing war criminals simply because they had a change of heart either.

Daniel had seemed pretty confident in his ability to convince Hanno of Teal'c's change of heart and all the good he'd done since abandoning the Goa'uld – or perhaps the archaeologist was hoping to bore Hanno to death with his monologues; one could never tell with Danny-boy. Then again, Daniel had been surprisingly upbeat the entire mission and not even the threat of Teal'c's demise had seemed to put a damper on his enthusiasm. Jack couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with that geek friend Daniel had mentioned while gearing up – apparently one of the new scientists on base was a pen pal of Daniel's and according to Doc Fraiser the friend had been looking forward to meeting him in person.

"Colonel O'Neill!"

Jack was startled from his thoughts by a gray-haired sergeant calling out to him and realized his feet had taken him to the control room. "Yeah, Sergeant?"

"General Hammond wants to see you and Lieutenant Kershaw, Sir."

"Okay… oh, Sergeant do you know if SG-7 has checked in already?"

The man smiled before responding. "Yes, Sir. Their next scheduled check-in is in five hours; right now it's in the middle of the night on P3X-425."

"Thanks." Jack nodded and made his way over to the spiral staircase that led to the briefing room next to Hammond's office, pleased to learn the new team of scientists hadn't managed to get themselves into trouble yet - the geeks were probably happily playing with their doohickeys while he worried about their safety. When he reached the top of the stairs, he noticed his 2IC was already there, staring out the window at the 'gate down below. "Kershaw."

Her head whipped around and she smiled politely when she saw him. "Sir. The General said he'd be out in a minute."

Through the window connecting the briefing room and the base commander's office Jack could see the General sitting behind his desk, no longer on the phone but shuffling some papers around it seemed. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he muttered.

"You think he won't approve a rescue, Sir?"

"If the brass had okayed it I think Hammond would be busy assembling a team in the gate room, not reorganizing the folders on his desk."

She nodded grimly, apparently already having come to the same conclusion. "How long do you think he has?"

"Teal'c? I don't know," he glanced at his watch, "it's probably in the middle of the night there already. Hopefully Daniel was successful at the Cory and managed to convince Hanno that Teal'c is no longer the enemy, but I doubt it considering Hanno's attitude since he recognized Teal'c."

"Cor-ai, Sir."

He frowned and looked at his 2IC. "What?"

"The sentence hearing is called cor-ai."

"Whatever," Jack muttered as he plopped down on a chair.

Seconds later Hammond entered the briefing room and waved them both down as he got right to business. "I'm sorry, Colonel, the President won't authorize a rescue."

"I don't believe it!"

"What?!" Kershaw said simultaneously.

"I agree with the President's decision," Hammond said. "We can't commit troops to risk their lives in an action that I believe is morally ambiguous."

Jack fumed silently, even though he had expected as much, and couldn't help but wonder how much effort the General had put into trying to convince the President to let them save Teal'c. "That's where I respectfully disagree, Sir."

"You have the right to disagree, Colonel, but you do not have the right to take action against orders. Is that understood?"

* * *

**P3X-425**   
**Milky Way Galaxy**

Daylight arrived earlier than Sam would have liked after the few hours of sleep she'd had. It had been years since she'd slept under the stars, and taking second watch had taken a toll on her which she hadn't expected considering how many all-nighters she often pulled when engrossed in a project. Her watch had been uneventful although she had enjoyed the sight of so many stars in an alien sky with no light pollution. But regardless of how brief it was, it had wreaked havoc on the sleep she'd gotten last night. Fortunately, the cup of coffee Isaacs had handed her the moment she got out of her tent that morning and the excitement of finally getting to study the alien device had removed any traces of sleepiness and exhaustion.

Breaking up camp went a lot faster than setting it up the day before after a  _long_  day of hiking and generally moving around a lot, and not even the muscles aches everyone was suffering from were enough to slow them down on the way over to the compound.

"It's about a klick east to the device but our guides said to wait here for them to pick us up and escort us over there. It's best if two of us dialed Earth to let them know everything is going all right while the others wait here," Lieutenant Colonel Grieves said after everything had been packed away. He shared a look with Airman Adams and then smiled. "Why don't Carter and Isaacs hike back to the 'gate to contact General Hammond? Yesterday Adams and I made the trip and we had to stand by all day while you took your damn readings of that volcano. Besides, you two can do a much better job at informing General Hammond of your findings and Adams has established a rapport with our guides already."

"I'll be happy to, Sir," Sam said. It was true, she wouldn't mind getting a closer look at the dial-home-device or DHD as they called it, although her legs and back probably wouldn't enjoy more walking.

"Great! I think it's about three klicks south from here."

Lieutenant Isaacs had already shouldered his pack and took it off again. "I'll get the homing device to find the fastest route."

Sam smiled; pleased to get the opportunity to try out another one of the devices she created in her lab at the Pentagon. Not to mention that she'd rather accompany Isaacs – a fellow scientist – to the 'gate than wait here with her CO or Adams until their guides would finally show up. Sitting around and waiting had never been her strong suit. She preferred to have something to keep her busy and after working closely with the Lieutenant for most of the day before she found she enjoyed his company more than her other teammates so far. "We'll stay in radio contact, Sir."

"Keep your eyes and ears open, Captain," Grieves ordered.

"Yes, Sir."

Grieves waved them off and settled back onto the log he'd been occupying during breakfast, starting a conversation with Airman Adams.

"I'll bet his legs and back are killing him from all the walking yesterday and sleeping on the ground," Isaacs said as they left the vicinity of their camp. "I know I could have used a few more hours of sleep!"

"Me too," Sam murmured. "Perhaps walking will help get rid of the ache in my calves."

"If only it wouldn't hurt my feet so much."

She chuckled in response, recalling how much she'd wanted to take her new boots off when hitting the sack last night. Mission protocol was to keep the boots on though, just in case of an attack in the middle of the night or something else that required immediate action. It was probably for the best too, considering Sam wasn't sure she'd be able to stand the blisters and other aches that came with breaking in new boots, never mind putting them back on in the morning! "You got new boots too?"

The Lieutenant smirked at her, understanding on his face. "Yeah, I spent most of my days in a lab or office before my transfer to the SGC. The boots came with the BDUs. For you too I take it, Ma'am?"

"I was stationed at the Pentagon before my transfer, so I usually wore my dress blues with heels. I still have my combat boots somewhere in the back of my closet in my apartment in DC, but I barely got the chance to pack before being sent on a plane to Colorado, so…"

They continued their small talk as they found their way back to the path leading to the stargate, only occasionally consulting the homing device. By the time they reached the alien ring they had compared careers and experiences of being scientists in the Air Force, combining academics with military training and they had, unsurprisingly, quite a few things in common. They were just discussing the weather phenomenon as they walked up to the MALP and checked to see if it was still in working order.

"Everything seems fine. Let the Colonel know we've arrived at the gate," Sam ordered, while taking the opportunity to examine the DHD. So far she had only seen pictures of it and her hands were itching to open it up and take a look inside. Alas, there was no time for her scientific curiosity.

"Colonel Grieves said to dial in, Ma'am," Isaacs said, interrupting her moment with the DHD.

Up until now all the new experiences and getting to know her teammates a bit better had kept her mind occupied but as the 'gate activated she was suddenly reminded of the situation she had left behind on Earth: Jack. Colonel O'Neill. Colonel  _Jack_  O'Neill. General Hammond's second in command and the man she'd spent the night with in DC. Was he already on the base? Was it still the same date as she had left Earth or not? Her brain was awfully uncooperative as she tried to calculate the difference in rotation of both planets and kept seeing Jack, all disheveled and sexy, in her mind's eye. What if he was the one on the other end? Did he know who she was now? Had he figured it out upon seeing her personnel file?

When General Hammond finally answered their call Sam was startled from her thoughts and let out the breath she'd been holding; no Jack. Lieutenant Isaacs nudged her shoulder when the General repeated his question and she gestured for him to report, while she busied herself with the laptop to send the data they'd collected back to the scientists at the SGC. After finishing up the check-in the 'gate disengaged and Sam found her gaze drawn back to the DHD.

"Pretty amazing, huh Ma'am?"

"Oh yeah," she said, grinning at Isaacs as she took in the device. "This is what was missing from the dig at Giza. This is how they controlled it! It took us fifteen years and three supercomputers to MacGyver a system on Earth!"

The Lieutenant seemed equally impressed as he gazed at it. "Look how small it is!"

"I know!" Sam sighed, once more wishing she could open it up and explore it the way she'd done with the VCR when she'd been a little girl.

"I wonder if any DHD would work on a random 'gate," Isaacs mused aloud. Realizing he'd gotten her attention, he gestured at the two alien devices. "I mean, couldn't we just take a DHD from an abandoned planet to substitute for the one we don't have?"

"I'm not sure that would work," she said, as she packed up her laptop and shouldered on her pack. "Besides, even if that was possible how could we take one with us  _through_  a 'gate? The DHD is what powers it so without it we wouldn't be able to go home. That's not even taking into account what the thing must weigh and if we can disconnect it and hook it up to our 'gate without any problems."

They continued their discussion about the dialing computer, the DHD, the Stargate, dialing protocols and the possibility of an observatory the brass wanted on this planet as they made their way back to the camp, still keeping an eye out for danger even though they hadn't encountered anyone or anything except for the villagers so far. Half an hour later they met up with Lieutenant Colonel Grieves, Airman Adams and one of the guides from the day before when they reached the camp.

"We already made a quick detour to the compound to check out the device but it looks like we won't get anywhere without your expertise, Captain," Grieves said.

Sam was surprised to hear he'd taken a look at it himself when he'd explicitly stated he and Adams would stay at the camp but bit her tongue to prevent her questions from slipping out. It wouldn't do to alienate herself from her CO on their first mission. "I see."

"Considering General Hammond wanted us to observe this weather phenomenon," Grieves said loudly, gesturing at the darkened sky and trying to make himself understood as the wind picked up, "I think it would be best if we split up: Adams and Isaacs can play meteorologists while I take Carter to the device. That way both scientists can geek out while we watch your sixes."

Sam followed her commanding officer to the compound while their guide took her other teammates away and to where the eye of the storm would form according to him. Her feet were still killing her but the excitement of getting her hands on alien technology and being allowed to  _examine_  it outweighed any pain or discomfort she felt during the klick east.

Grieves didn't say a word as usual when walking – so far he'd only spoken at the camp, volcano and 'gate – but that was okay because her thoughts were pretty focused on one thing anyway. Could it be some kind of force field or a shield that protected these people from natural phenomena and would it work against other kinds of danger too? How was it powered?

"So, what do you think, Captain?"

Sam entered the compound and made a beeline to the device. Her pack hit the floor the next second as she got her instruments out and examined the readings the piece of alien technology gave off. "I'm not sure yet, Sir. Right now I don't even know how it is powered and if it has an on or off switch!"

Grieves stepped up to her and reached out to the device. "Maybe we should take a peek."

"Sir, with all due respect, we're not supposed to touch or move it without express permission from the elders," Sam reminded her CO.

"There's no one here but us, Captain. Don't you want to know what makes this tick?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the timeline for a simplified map of P3X-425, if you want to know more about the layout of the land.


	8. Betrayal

**P3X-425**   
**Milky Way Galaxy**

Sam attempted to ignore her CO who was in the door opening, standing watch yet observing her. She had tried to be as respectful as possible telling him off when he suggested taking the device from its holder. Although Lieutenant Colonel Grieves had seemed annoyed with her he hadn’t pressed the issue and simply shrugged before taking up position at the entrance of the compound. Every now and then, she could feel his eyes on her, watching her as she examined the device as best she could without touching or moving it.

It was frustrating to be limited in her actions by the natives’ instructions but she was well aware of how important this device was. Not just for future purposes on Earth but right now, here on this planet to protect the natives. If she did anything to offend them, they would undoubtedly go back on the deal the SGC had made with them and, at best, chase them back to the 'gate empty-handed. Therefore, her examination of the device was limited to readings with the UTD and taking some scrapings of the device’s casing where it already showed wear and tear to determine what materials it was made of.

“What do your little tests tell you so far, Captain?”

She looked up at Grieves’ question and brushed some hair out of her face before answering. “Well, it’s difficult to do any thorough testing in the field…” Sam made a hand gesture to encompass the situation they found themselves in but refrained from pointing out how it was impossible to do a proper examination without being able to touch the device, let alone turn it over to check out all sides. “… but so far the atmospheric readings in the compound don’t seem to be affected by the device. Everything is normal in that area, although there is a small electromagnetic field surrounding the device. It doesn’t appear as if the holder actually does anything other than offer a place for it to sit on but interestingly it seems to be made of the same material as the device’s casing.”

“And what kind of material is that?”

“At first glance it appears to be some kind of alloy. The energy signature the UTD is picking up matches that of the naquadah in the stargate, so it’s probably a mix of naquadah, carbon and some other kind of metal. One of the minerals used shares some similarities with iron as far as I can tell but appears to be much stronger.” She shrugged and started putting the scrapings she’d taken away in her kit. “We’ll know more when we get back to the SGC and can run an EDS analysis on it to identify the major inorganic elements in the device’s casing.”

Lieutenant Colonel Grieves seemed to contemplate this for a moment and waited until she was done to speak again. “What about the power source?”

Sam eyed the innocuous-looking device. “Without fully examining it I can’t be certain but my guess is it’s located just below the device’s center and takes up most of the bottom area.”

“What are you basing your assumption on?”

“The electromagnetic field seems to be most concentrated in that area and it gives off the strongest energy readings.”

“And what kind of power source does the device use, Captain?”

She shrugged and stepped closer to the contraption. “It’s definitely something alien and advanced; it’s far more powerful than anything we have on Earth, especially in this size.” She gestured at the device, which was about the size of a beer bottle but with more of a cylindrical shape. The holder was far larger, though, and its standard reached from floor to ceiling. “Right now it’s simply emanating a small amount of power but both holder and device are conducive, which probably explains how it can generate a protective force field around the village area as the charge grows larger in response to a changing atmosphere since there don’t appear to be any buttons or external wiring.”

Grieves nodded in understanding before he stepped back to the door opening and did a quick sweep of the surrounding area. “Hypothetically speaking, if we could convince the natives to let us borrow their device or at least examine it thoroughly here, is it possible for us to reverse engineer this thing on Earth?”

“Well, theoretically similar materials needed to recreate it are available on Earth, but they are of lesser quality and the power source would pose a challenge. I mean, we haven’t seen the device in action yet so we have no idea of its full potential but even if this compound is merely the center and the radius of the protective effect a few klicks to include the village then it obviously requires large amounts of energy,” Sam explained. “Now, I haven’t had the chance to examine the DHD myself but from what I’ve read in the reports from the SGC’s science department I wouldn’t be surprised if the technology was similar; both in how much energy can be produced by such relatively small devices as well as the crystal technology inside.”

“I guess that means we’ll need to come back sometime in the near future with more sophisticated equipment to be able to study the device’s inner workings,” Grieves mused aloud. “Is there anything else you can do right now with the instruments we brought with us or is it time to pack up?”

“Actually, I wanted to examine the parameters needed for-”

“Yeah, yeah,” the Colonel interrupted her, “I don’t need the details, Captain. Just do your thing while I do another perimeter check.”

Sam watched him go outside and felt relief at finally being alone; she did her best work when allowed to concentrate on the task at hand. Having someone constantly looking over her shoulder, questioning her or otherwise interrupted her train of thought. She turned back to her case with instruments and went about setting up the equipment needed for a final test while she let her mind wonder about the possibilities of the device. If it was capable of generating a force field or some kind of shield, depending on how it worked, it could be used on Earth in numerous applications!

SG-1 had already encountered personal force field shields in the field when they tried to attack Apophis once. What she’d been able to glean from their reports was that the Goa'uld personal shield had a deflection capability directly proportional to the amount of kinetic energy directed against it. That meant that an individual protected by the shield could fire weapons through the barrier but weapons directed against the barrier would get deflected unless their kinetic energy – velocity – was much lower, like an arrow or a knife which could penetrate it.

On Earth, scientists were nowhere near creating such shields but perhaps this device could tell them more and they’d be able to reverse-engineer the technology. It probably wouldn’t be of the same quality or capabilities but maybe they could create personal shields like the Goa'uld used too, rather than something that could envelop an area with a diameter of a dozen klicks. Sam was hoping the weather phenomenon Lieutenant Isaacs and Airman Adams were observing would trigger the device’s protective barrier so she would be able to investigate it fully. For one, it was important to determine whether it was a one-way or two-way barrier but she was also interested in knowing what it looked like; did it look similar to the Goa'uld shield or was it invisible unless something or someone attempted to penetrate it?

Did it operate on a frequency oscillation principle or something completely different? If it protected against both the extreme weather and any volcano eruptions like the villagers claimed then how was it able to shield them without enveloping them in a bubble with limited oxygen? It wouldn’t be very useful if it allowed water in but not out because then the natives would risk drowning over time and allowing toxic air or other particles – like ash or sulfur from an eruption – in would slowly kill the people too.

Perhaps it was more like a dome that filtered the air and whatnot rather than a barrier-like force field, Sam mused. She had just finished setting up her equipment and was running a diagnostic on the laptop hooked up to it when her radio crackled.

“Colonel Grieves? This is Lieutenant Isaacs.”

Their CO’s response was immediate. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

“We’ve got company, Sir.” A brief pause followed before Isaacs continued. “We thought we heard the 'gate activate; Adams has a visual of the 'gate and says there are Jaffa coming through and they’re heading to the village.”

Sam nearly knocked over her laptop upon hearing this news and, after grabbing her MP5, dashed over to the entryway of the compound in the hopes of locating her CO.

“What?! Airman Adams are you positive?”

“Yes Sir. From the edge of the trees I’ve got a clear line of sight, Sir.”

“How many?”

“There’s a lot of ‘em, Sir,” the Airman said. “At least three to five platoons, Sir.”

“How fast are they approaching?”

Letting out a deep breath Sam glanced around doorway to check the perimeter of the compound but couldn’t see her CO. He had probably already found cover in case the Jaffa moved in this direction, she thought. “The village is approximately two point five klicks from the stargate,” she said over the radio. It had taken them close to two hours to reach the village on their first day but they’d had the incredibly slow FRED tagging along with them to supply the villagers. Without it they could manage it within an hour.

“Fast, Sir. The last ones will probably be there within half an hour.”

“Our guides want to flee to the hills, Sir,” Lieutenant Isaacs chimed in.

Confusion was clear in Grieves’ voice when he replied. “The ones northeast? It’ll take them hours to get there on foot, even if they run!”

“It might be our best bet, Sir,” Adams said. “The four of us are no match against all those Jaffa.”

“We’d never make it,” Sam argued. “Unless we leave all of our equipment and possibly our packs behind-”

“But if they find our stuff they’ll never leave until they locate us,” Grieves said, interrupting her. “And we don’t have enough ammo to protect all the villagers during a trek to the hills.”

Sam knew her CO was right; if her team followed the natives to the hills they’d be expected to protect them due to their more advanced weaponry and there were far too many children and elderly who would slow them down. The Jaffa would easily catch up with them and capture or kill everyone! “What about the 'gate?”

“Captain?”

“Maybe we can dial home when all the Jaffa are on their way to the village, Sir. Considering the locations of the 'gate, our camp from last night and the device, I’d estimate it’s about three point two klicks to the 'gate,” she explained. The 'gate had been south of the camp and the compound she was currently at was almost directly east from the camp. “The location of the observatory is along that route, too.”

“Captain Carter is right, Sir,” Lieutenant Isaacs said. “I can see the top of the compound housing the device from here and aside from some trees and low bushes there is a clear path towards it. I’d estimate we’re about one point five to two klicks away from you and the way to the 'gate is clear from here.”

“Adams, what do you see?”

There was a beat before the Airman responded. “It seems all the Jaffa are going for the village, Sir. Before our guides ran off they said they’re probably here to harvest new hosts, which means they expect it to be a simple retrieval mission and from the looks of it they’re leaving the 'gate unattended. Obviously they haven’t noticed the MALP yet or don’t know what it means.”

“Okay,” Grieves said. “Adams, Isaacs, you two pack up your things and find cover. Captain, stay in the compound and start packing while I take a closer look.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll head to our camp site, Captain,” he explained, “the rest of the villagers should pass near the river or the valley between the camp and the volcano. They might be able to tell me more and I can at least check to see if the Jaffa are going beyond the village or not. It’s less than a klick from my current position, so it should only take a few minutes. Grieves out.”

Sam went back to the device and started taking down her instruments as fast as she could; the items were expensive and very sensitive, meaning she couldn’t rush it out of fear of damaging the equipment. By the time she had put everything back into the kit and shouldered her pack, her radio burst back to life. She held her breath as her teammates gave a situation report.

“Sir, we’re under attack! I repeat: we’re under attack!”

Grieves muttered an expletive in response. “Do you have any cover?”

“Adams is retreating from the tree line to my position…” The sound of _something_ exploding drowned out some of Isaacs’ words. “…a few rocks, Sir.”

“How many hostiles, Lieutenant?”

It was quiet for a moment during which Sam was all too aware of her pounding heart and sweating hands but fortunately her teammate replied again, sounding a bit breathless. “At least a platoon!”

“Captain you’re gonna have to be their reinforcement,” Lieutenant Colonel Grieves said brusquely over the radio. “The river is too wide for me to cross here and I’m nearly four klicks away. Leave your equipment and go!”

Sam grabbed her radio and barked a “Yes Sir!” into it before she patted her pockets to double-check her extra ammo. After making sure the Beretta was still strapped to her thigh she clutched her MP5 and ran over to the entryway. A quick check revealed no hostiles lying in wait, which was unlikely anyway with nothing but trees on her six and an open plain with some woods and a river leading to the hills on her right, but she couldn’t be too careful!

Her heart was racing as she dashed out of the compound, weighed down by her heavy pack, and into the trees. The path to the area where the guys were under attack led into a clearing – perfect for the observatory General Hammond wanted – and she knew from the trip to the 'gate earlier this morning that anyone would be able to see her approach unless she moved through the woods. Now she just had to hope the Jaffa wouldn’t be able to hear her coming over the gunfire and blasts from their staff weapons…

It had been a few years since Sam was in the field but she was glad to realize her instincts were still as sharp as they’d been during the Gulf while she moved over the forested floor as quickly as her pack allowed without giving her position away. Within ten minutes, she reached the clearing and, although breathing a bit heavier, she quickly spied the enemy Jaffa firing from across her near the bend in the path. Her teammates were using a fallen log and a big oak-like tree as cover. No one had spotted her yet and she didn’t think the Jaffa would be able to overhear her from half a klick away, so she tried the radio. “This is Carter, I’m in position at your seven o’clock.”

“Great to have you with us, Ma’am!” Airman Adams said with obvious enthusiasm.

“Their body armor isn’t impenetrable… takes a lot of bullets… headshot best,” Isaacs said.

Sam had already deduced that from what she’d read about the Jaffa in general in mission reports and such but also knew the head was a rather small and _moving_ target. At least they weren’t wearing those elaborate helmets she’d read about, she thought as she readied her MP5. From this vantage point, she had a pretty good shot at the Jaffa but there were a lot of them and frankly she didn’t have time to take precision shots when her teammates were under such heavy fire! Still, she managed to kill two directly by a headshot before staff blasts were aimed in her general direction as well. Those Jaffa were certainly very perceptive…

“I’m coming up behind you in a few, Captain,” Grieves’ voice sounded over her radio.

After aiming a few more shots at the enemies’ torsos she took cover behind a large tree and glanced in the general direction from which she’d come. No sign of her CO yet but he should have entered the dense woods by now if he’d been running all the way from his previous location. Turning her head, Sam watched her teammates as they returned fire and could tell they were getting tired and probably running low on ammunition too. She bit her lip and wished for some good fortune – this was their first mission after all – before she ducked and started firing at the encroaching Jaffa. It wouldn’t take them much longer to overrun her team, she thought just as a horn sounded. Gritting her teeth she felled two more enemies and continued firing until her clip was empty.

Turning her back against the tree, she efficiently changed magazines and took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and racing heart, knowing it wouldn’t take long for the Jaffa reinforcements to come along now that another horn sounded in response. Quickly wiping her sweaty palms on her pants, she saw her CO was finally approaching from her two o’clock at a quick pace and nodded at him in acknowledgment when he saw her. Her eyes swept the surrounding forest to make sure they were the only ones hiding in here and then retook her crouched position to return fire.

“Captain,” the Colonel greeted her from her left.

“Sir.”

He turned on the radio as she continued firing. “Isaacs, Adams, how’re you holding up?”

“Running low on ammo, Sir,” Adams replied.

Sam retreated to her cover and glanced at her CO. “I still have three magazines left,” she said, patting her pockets.

Grieves nodded and readied his MP5 from behind his own tree and started firing at the remaining Jaffa. “Think we can bypass those Jaffa to the 'gate, Captain?”

“It’s about three hundred meters to the woods on your eleven o’clock, Sir!”

“Along the river?” He called back as they changed positions and he took cover, waving to the narrow river west.

Her arms were shaking as she continued shooting down the enemy and she jumped when a stray blast hit the tree two feet above her head. “The river branches out about eight hundred meters from here but we should be able to cross those smaller arms on foot,” she yelled over the gunfire. “From there we can move through the woods on their three o’clock and hopefully get behind the stargate before they catch up with us.”

“Circling around them is impossible,” he confirmed when they switched again. “Even if we could cross that wide river near our campsite we’d end up behind the village, which is in chaos with people running, fires burning and Jaffa crawling all over the place.”

Sam swallowed hard; she had already figured out that their best chance was through the woods but that meant their teammates had to join them and then they _all_ had to cross an open field with hardly any cover before they would reach the safety of the trees. Not to mention that said safety was questionable at best with those Jaffa roaming the area and being pretty good trackers according to the reports she’d read. “We have no choice, Sir,” she said, stealing another glance at their struggling teammates to her left. “They’re closing in on us and they’ve already called for backup which should arrive soon.”

“Now that they know we’re here they probably won’t give up and just leave either,” her commanding officer said, stating the obvious. He pulled back, taking cover behind his tree and mopped his brow with his sleeve as he looked at the other half of the team. “Why did they have to get themselves trapped on that side,” he muttered to himself before he opened the radio. “Lieutenant, can you get to our position?”

“Negative, Sir,” Isaacs said. “Adams has been hit in the leg.”

“God damn it!” Grieves clenched his hands around his weapon and threw another concerned glance in their direction. “They won’t make it across the field alone.”

Sam cleared her dry throat and tried to remember what she’d read about staff blast injuries. “Airman Adams might not make it at all if he doesn’t receive medical attention,” she pointed out.

“Blood loss?”

“No,” she shook her head. The blast would probably cauterize the wound, preventing any major blood loss. “Infection and possible muscle damage."

The radio crackled again and this time it was Airman Adams who spoke. “We’ll make it, Sir. Just cover our sixes.”

To Sam's surprise their CO agreed and while she prepared herself to provide cover fire, she was stunned to see her teammates – Isaacs supporting Adams – run across the field in a horizontal line, going to the woods opposite her and Grieves, rather than the relative safety of their woods! The Jaffa seemed to be shocked by the bold move too, which was probably their only saving grace because Sam and the Colonel only barely managed to distract them and take a few of them down.

“Go!”

“What?!” She cried when she felt her CO’s hand patting her shoulder, swiveling back behind her tree for cover.

Grieves continued firing and gestured with his head for her to move around him and run across the open field in front of her to join her teammates. “You and Adams are the ones with medical training and he’s in no state to help himself! Go on, I’ll cover you!”

That was insane! She looked at him with wild eyes but he just scowled back determinedly after ceasing fire in favor of cover. “Sir-”

“You go,” he said, dumping his empty magazine and replacing it with one from his pocket, “while Isaacs and I distract them. Then you’ll check on Adams and if he’s not dying that instant you and Isaacs provide cover fire while I join you. That way you can tend to Adams while Isaacs moves towards the 'gate and I’ll watch your sixes.”

“Sir, with all due respect, that’s crazy,” she said, breathless.

He smiled coldly at her and indicated she had to get ready. “Yeah and those bastards will never expect it. You can easily make it, Captain. Now go, that’s an order!”

Sam took a deep breath to steel herself and dimly heard him instruct Isaacs over the radio before she ran off towards her two teammates at maximum speed, hoping she wouldn’t get hit by an energy blast herself. Strangely enough, she made it to the safety of the tree line with her heart in her throat but no injuries! “Holy Hannah,” she breathed as she dashed behind the large boulder shielding Adams. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“Good to s’you in one piece, Ma’am,” Adams muttered while attempting a smile.

“You too, Airman,” she replied after a quick onceover, her gaze pausing at his injury. There was no way she could tend to his wounds with her weapon in her hands and she needed a medkit, so Sam dropped her pack and told him to hang on after handing Isaacs one of her magazines. Over the radio she gave the signal to her CO just as she and Isaacs started firing at the Jaffa again. To her surprise, even Adams managed to fire, his weapon resting on some small rocks next to the boulder and all he did was press the trigger but it was a diversion to say the least – he even managed to hit one Jaffa, she noted from the corner of her eye.

With the gunfire, staff blasts and her own blood rushing through her veins Sam barely heard a thing until she picked up on rapidly approaching footfalls from her five o’clock and she couldn’t believe her commanding officer had managed to cross the distance without harm as well! “Nice of you to join us, Sir,” she yelled in his direction as he dove behind the boulder.

Grieves cursed and muttered as he got up from the ground, apparently not having had the best of landings but picked himself up regardless. “Isaacs, go!” He gestured wildly with his hand for the Lieutenant to head through the forest and make it to the 'gate, hoping the young man would be able to dial out without the Jaffa noticing until it was too late and the rest of the team had already joined him. “Adams, you okay?”

“Fine, Sir,” he slurred, nearly toppling over on his side.

“Captain.”

Sam ceased fire and rolled back behind the boulder at the unspoken order and changed places with the Colonel. “I’m just going to examine your leg,” she told the Airman after pulling him to safety. By the time she had retrieved the med kit from her pack and put her MP5 at her side Adams had already passed out, which was probably for the best. Slipping on gloves, she started prodding the wound on his outer thigh and was dismayed at the size of the injury and scorched flesh. The fabric of his BDU pants ripped easily around the wound, allowed for a closer examination. While Grieves continued to fire she cleaned the burnt flesh, careful to avoid breaking the already forming blisters and applied the ointment and bandages the way the CMO had explained. By the time she had wrapped up the leg and was debating painkillers and whether to administer additional antibiotics or not, Grieves had already grabbed her weapon and was firing it. “I’m done with Adams, Sir.”

“Good,” he yelled over the gunfire. “Contact Isaacs.”

Doing as she was told and keeping an eye on the unconscious Airman, she packed up the materials she had used. “What’s your position, Lieutenant?”

“I crossed the river five minutes ago,” was his breathless response, “I’m almost at the edge of the woods, Ma’am.”

Hands itching for her MP5 she glared at the back of her CO and silently wondered why she’d apparently been the only one to take enough magazines with her. “Understood, be careful, Lieutenant. Carter out.”

“Got anymore magazines, Captain?”

Gritting her teeth Sam retrieved another one from her pocket and, crouching over to his spot, handed it to the Colonel. His own MP5 lay discarded at his side and out of her reach but Adams’ gun was still strapped to his chest, so she moved closer to her commanding officer with the intention of putting her last magazine in his weapon. That was when she saw a bulge in his pants pocket with an all too familiar shape: the alien device! He had taken the device from its holder against the terms of agreement they had with the natives! He’d stolen it! “Sir…”

“What?”

“You took the device,” she accused.

Lieutenant Colonel Grieves rolled onto his side and sat up behind the boulder, barely glancing at her as he discarded another empty magazine. “Yeah, so? It’s not like the natives were using it.”

“Sir! We can’t j-just… just steal it! Those Jaffa will leave again and the remaining natives will come back from their hiding place in the hills to realize their only means of protection is gone!”

“Lot a good it’s doing them now,” he muttered.

“Sir,” Lieutenant Isaacs’ whispering voice over the radio broke the tense silence between them, “I’m at the edge of the forest and have a clear line of sight of the stargate. It’s unguarded.”

Their CO smirked and hit his radio’s button. “Can you make it to the DHD?”

“They won’t even notice as long as you keep them busy, Sir.”

“Until he starts dialing,” Sam said. “And he won’t be able to go through right away because you have the GDO, Sir.”

Grieves narrowed his eyes pensively and patted his pockets. “I’ve got a few grenades and some C4 that’ll make a good distraction while we make our way to the 'gate.” He directed his next question to Isaacs over the radio. “Can you hide behind the DHD and dial as soon as we’re at the edge of the forest? That should be close enough to send the IDC from my GDO.”

“Yes, Sir,” Isaacs replied. “How’s Adams doing, Sir?”

“He’ll be fine once we get him to the infirmary,” Sam said keying the radio. Releasing the button, she turned her attention back to the Colonel. “Sir, the device…”

“Rouse him, we need to get going,” Grieves said, before throwing a grenade in the general direction of the Jaffa.

Ignoring the blast, she moved to the Airman to check on him. “Sir, I think-”

“I don’t care what you think, _Captain_ ,” her CO interrupted her, emphasizing her rank.

“We can’t just steal alien technology, Sir! Do you really think General Hammond will just accept that these natives gave their most advanced technology to us at a time when their weather is most extreme and a volcano is about to erupt?! Not to mention how your actions will impact future relations with these natives; they’ll never cooperate with us again and we can kiss that observatory goodbye!” Sam gave up on her attempts to rouse the Airman and turned back to her commanding officer, angry about his betrayal and fearful of how it might impact her career and future. It was only when she looked up at him, ready to give him more arguments that she noticed the Beretta leveled at her. “Colonel-”

His eyes were cold and dark as he glared at her, towering over her seated form. “You should have just kept your mouth shut, Captain.”

“You can’t just _shoot_ me! There’ll be questions and-”

“Why? I’ll just blame _you_ and your scientific curiosity,” Grieves said coldly. “Your disgraceful actions caused the natives to turn on us, contacting the Jaffa who were responsible for poor Airman Adams’ injuries and your unfortunate death. The General will be forced to remove the planet’s designation from the dialing computer now that the people are our enemies and no one will be the wiser.”

It all happened so fast Sam barely managed to rise from her kneeled position when she felt an impact in her shoulder, knocking her off balance. Instinctively, she tried to jump up and twist away but there was a sudden burning sensation in her side before she landed face down in the dirt. Her last thought was, ironically, that at least she wouldn’t have to face Jack back at the SGC as everything went black around her…

 


	9. Sawbones

**P3X-425**  
**Milky Way Galaxy**

Somewhere in the distance metal was clanking loudly in an almost rhythmic fashion and dim voices could be heard among heavy footfalls and crunching leaves. The noises seemed to be coming closer, Sam thought groggily as she regained consciousness. She groaned when she knitted her brows in confusion; her head was throbbing painfully, in sync with her rapid heartbeat. Oh and God, her shoulder  _hurt_! "Damn it," she muttered, plopping back on the ground after trying to push herself up with her left arm.

She twisted, trying to get a look at her shoulder but the radio obstructed her view and the movement caused pain to lance through her right side. A gasp was torn from her mouth in response and at the same time she recalled what had happened: the Colonel had shot her! Twice! Mentally cursing him, she used her right hand to pat down her side in an attempt to asses her injury. Moving was painful but she knew it was necessary if she wanted to survive, especially when her hand came back sticky with blood.

Murmurs in a foreign language and shouting in the distance spurred her into action. The Jaffa! They were here, probably searching the woods from the sounds of it and she briefly wondered if her team was still here or if they'd made it back to Earth. A quick look around revealed she was alone, still more or less in the same spot as when Colonel Grieves shot her, behind the boulder. Her pack was gone, though, and so were the MP5s and her sidearm. Airman Adams was nowhere in sight either and Sam hoped that meant the Colonel had taken him with him to the SGC. After all, Adams had been unconscious when she went down so he wouldn't have any idea what their CO had done to her and the same went for Lieutenant Isaacs; he had been making a run for the DHD when Grieves betrayed her and left her for dead.

Sam swallowed against the bile rising in her throat and dismissed thoughts of her teammates. They weren't here anymore or they would have helped her. Right now, it didn't matter whether they were safely back home or if the Colonel had dumped their bodies somewhere in the woods between here and the 'gate. Either way it meant she was on her own, and no one would be coming to her rescue if Grieves was to be believed.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she used her right arm to push up a bit but immediately gave up when it caused the pain in her side to flare up. Sam silently berated herself as she realized the action caused her abdominal muscles to tense and contract, which in turn aggravated her injury. Her heart was still pounding and she took a moment to try and calm it by regulating her breathing, all the while aware of the risks of blood loss and infection due to her open wounds. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to roll over onto her right side, a strangled moan escaping her lips but after what felt like forever she managed to land on her back.

Both her shoulder and her side were throbbing and she bit her lip against the fresh waves of pain and nausea as tears gathered in her eyes. Her breathing was coming in short gasps while she lay there, collecting her emotions and wits. She knew she had to examine her injuries and find a way to stop the bleeding or she'd be bleeding out on some backwater planet without anyone ever knowing what had happened to her. That is, if the Jaffa didn't find her first. She blinked against the tears welling up in her eyes until they fell down the sides of her face, landing somewhere in her hair. With her vision no longer blurry from tears, she could tell it had gotten darker and that the storm was probably fast approaching; she had to find somewhere to shelter from the elements without it arousing the suspicions of the Jaffa, or they would never leave. They probably thought she'd left with the rest of her team or they would have found her already.

"First things first," Sam muttered. Gathering all her strength she placed both hands on the forest floor to lean up and then she scooted backwards until she could rest her back against the boulder they'd used as cover. The movement caused the excruciating pain from her shoulder to radiate out to her arm, making her bite back a sob of pain. Mobility was bad and her arm felt surprisingly heavy when she lifted it to check her watch, which took a great deal of effort. She was relieved to see not a lot of time had passed since the firefight, though. It meant she couldn't have been unconscious for more than a few minutes, which explained why the Jaffa hadn't caught up with her yet.

Placing her left hand in her lap she used her right to dig into the pockets of her vest, retrieving some of the gauze pads she'd put in there just in case. She realized both her hands were dirty, covered in blood, mud and even some grass and leaves when she took a moment to look at them. They had to be washed before she could examine her injuries or she would only make it worse but she still tore the packages of gauze open with her teeth and stuffed some gauze into her jacket over both wounds in the hopes of stopping some of the bleeding. Her field of vision momentarily went black when she touched the surrounding tissue and she had to take a deep breath before moving again.

Her vest covered most of her jacket so she couldn't get a good visual of either injury but considering the damage to her radio she suspected Colonel Grieves had shot her right through it, which meant there might be debris in her shoulder wound and that could complicate things. The only thing she could tell for now was that there was a dark spot on her right side and blood had soaked through the fabric near her shoulder, which made her suspect her shoulder was worse off than her side – just as the pain suggested.

Sam wiped her hands on her BDU pants as best she could without aggravating either her side or shoulder and looked back to where she'd been lying only moments ago; some of the grass was soaked with her blood. There was something else though! She used the back of her wrist to wipe her eyes before squinting at the dark package in the ankle-length grass. The med kit!

Holy Hannah, it was the  _med kit_!

She must have fallen on it when she went down and Grieves either hadn't noticed or didn't care to retrieve it before leaving her behind. Despite the circumstances she smiled, knowing this meant her chances of survival were much better!

Ignoring the pain, she stuffed the empty gauze wrappings in her pockets and forced herself to crawl over to the med kit. She nearly sagged in relief when she reached it but instead made herself sit on her butt. The Jaffa would undoubtedly be here soon so she used some of the nearby dirt and leaves to cover the pooled blood, but there was no way she could cover the rest of her tracks here with her limited mobility and blood loss. She figured she'd just have to hope the Jaffa would overlook it when they scanned this area and, after sliding the med kit's strap over her head, started crawling into the same direction her teammates must have gone.

It felt like she had been moving through the woods, off the paths, for hours when she finally found a suitable spot. There were a couple of huge trees with their thick trunks nearly hidden from sight by underbrush and low-hanging branches that skimmed the forest floor. Sam maneuvered herself through the shrubs and carefully rearranged the branches to keep her out of sight from anyone passing by before she collapsed against a tree-trunk. Moving there had taken almost all of her energy and she needed a moment to regain her breath and  _not_  pass out again.

Her side was aching but her shoulder was much worse, which worried her. More blood had soaked through her jacket and she feared the gauze she'd placed underneath it wasn't doing a good job of stopping the bleeding. She swallowed against the nausea still plaguing her and used her right hand to remove the med kit's strap from over her head, grimacing at the resulting ache in her side. Just placing the bag at her side left her exhausted and in pain, but Sam knew she couldn't afford to take her time and reached for her belt; Colonel Grieves had taken the time to remove her sidearm from her thigh holster but her water bottle was still attached to her belt. Crawling to the hideout had made the state of her hands worse so she used the water to clean them as best she could. There were a few grazes and minor cuts under the dirt and blood but fortunately they were all superficial and compared to her gunshot wounds they didn't hurt at all.

Once her hands were clean Sam went about removing her vest and taking off her jacket, neither of which was an easy task due to her injuries but after a few minutes she had managed and sagged gratefully back against the tree trunk. The gauze pads she'd placed against the wounds were completely soaked with blood, the ones against her shoulder still sticking to her shirt while the ones at her side had fallen to the ground. She lifted her shirt carefully, grimacing as it stuck to her wound, and finally got a visual on the gunshot wound when she had uncovered her side. From the looks of it, the second shot had been a mere graze, probably because she had jumped up and twisted away. Relief flooded her system as she realized it wasn't a serious injury, or at least not as bad as it could have been.

Still, she had to examine it and reached for the med kit. Due to her shoulder injury her left hand was pretty useless but she still put gloves on both her hands and started probing her injured side. It wasn't bleeding profusely anymore, which was a good sign, but she was unsure about whether it needed stitches or not. The graze wasn't too deep but an open wound on an alien planet was dangerous. Sam grabbed the ethanol from the bag and poured some over the area, hissing at the biting pain when it reached the damaged flesh. Her heart was pounding and she knew her breathing was too fast and shallow as well but she figured her injured shoulder was the main cause of it, so she simply wiped her side clean with sterile gauze before applying a betadine pad over it and covering it with a gauze pad held in place by tape.

Perspiration was stinging her eyes by the time she lowered her shirt again and sat up. Using the back of her wrist, she wiped her forehead clean and from the wince this elicited Sam figured she had bumped her head when she went down, which would explain why her head was throbbing as well. A bump on her forehead was the least of her concern now, though. Her shoulder was still bleeding – not to mention incredibly painful – and she was starting to feel lightheaded and her fingers and feet were getting cold. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized hemorrhagic shock was probably setting in from her blood loss and unless she wanted to die out here she had to fix her shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, she removed the pads and moved her shirt's neckline to the side to get a closer look at the injury. Most of the skin was covered in blood but she also saw some tiny plastic shards around the gunshot wound and  _in_  it. Her heart sank at confirmation of what she had already suspected: the bullet had gone through her radio and embedded pieces of the radio's plastic casing into her body.

Biting back tears, she used her right hand to explore the back of her left shoulder but after a fruitless search for an exit wound she had to give up and accept that the bullet was still inside of her. The radio must have taken the brunt of the impact and while she could certainly do without a shattered shoulder blade right now, she  _really_  wasn't looking forward to having to dig the bullet out herself. At least it hadn't hit any major arteries or she would have bled out already, Sam thought.

Her left arm still felt too heavy to move around a lot so Sam knew taking off her shirt wasn't an option. Reaching into the med kit with her bloody gloves she quickly located the scissors she was going to need. She placed them in her lap and rummaged about the pack to find some other things she was going to need. After laying everything out on her lap and the space blanket from the kit, she cut into her shirt's neckline and through the strap of her sports bra to expose her shoulder. Just those movements were enough to have new tears springing in her eyes but the cool metal of the scissors was almost welcome against her heated skin.

She placed the scissors back on the space blanket and took a swig of water for her suddenly dry throat. Her eyes fluttered close and she was tempted to just lean back and take a nap before examining her shoulder. Fighting against the fatigue, Sam reached for the med kit again and searched for the vials of morphine – lidocaine wasn't going to be enough for this – with one hand and, with difficulty, managed to retrieve it. She grabbed a syringe from her lap and extracted the correct dose before she administered the painkiller to her shoulder. The used syringe was tossed to the other side of the space blanket, away from all the sterile and packaged items she'd laid out, and she put some water on a pad of sterile gauze to clean the wound.

As Sam waited for the morphine to kick in she used her left hand to keep pressure on the wound with a gauze pad while she used her right hand to get the ziplock bag containing the IV kit. She knew her heartbeat was too fast while her pulse pressure had decreased in response to her blood loss and unless she wanted to pass out or go into full-blown hemorrhagic shock she needed to increase her blood volume. Unfortunately, it wasn't exactly possible to carry some extra bags of blood in a med kit so she would have to make do with Ringer's lactate from the IV kit to replenish her fluids. Her movements, however, were rather sluggish when she attempted to hook herself up to the IV bag. It took a few tries until she finally succeeded.

Another glance at her shoulder reminded her of the chances of infection and, vaguely recalling the speech by the CMO when they'd gone over the med kits' content, made her search the bag for the broad-spectrum antibiotics. By the time she had placed the vial in her lap and acquired a new syringe her hand was shaking and she had a hard time keeping a firm grasp on the syringe with her slippery glove. Her vision was starting to blur and she could only hope she withdrew the correct amount from the vial before she injected it into the IV bag. It took her a moment or two to realize she had to place the bag above her head for optimum results and in the end, she simply placed it behind her head, cushioned against the tree-trunk by her jacket.

The morphine seemed to be kicking in as the excruciating pain in her shoulder ebbed to a dull throbbing but Sam didn't want to take any chances and grabbed the tube of topic analgesic to apply it to the tissue surrounding the gunshot wound. The plastic shards embedded into her skin were hindering her movements but she could feel the skin starting to numb pretty quickly. She tossed the used gauze to the space blanket and reached for the ethanol and forceps. After sprinkling some ethanol on the stainless steel to sterilize it she figured it wouldn't hurt to be careful and splashed some on her gunshot wound as well. There was no expected biting pain courtesy of the painkillers she was on. Taking a deep breath she mentally prepared herself before she started to pick the pieces of her radio casing from her shoulder.

Sam's mouth was turning dry and she had a fuzzy feeling in her head from the morphine but as she pulled out the third shard of plastic she was still thankful for the heavy narcotic. Lowering the forceps to the space blanket she started probing her injured shoulder to determine whether there were pieces she had overlooked due to the awkward angle. Aside from the obvious bullet hole the skin felt smooth to her gloved finger. Now came the hard part, though.

Taking a deep breath, she carefully slipped her finger into the entry wound but it was difficult to determine what she was feeling with all the blood, plastic shards and the latex layer covering her hand. The hole was too small to explore with her probing finger so she grabbed the forceps again and craned her neck to get a proper look at the injury.

Ten minutes later she let her head fall back against the tree-trunk, exhausted. She had managed to extract a few small shards and two larger pieces but the bullet itself was too deep for her to reach with the limited space she had available. Dropping the forceps onto the space blanket she uncapped her bottle and took a swig of water as she mustered her courage for what was next.

From the med kit's second pouch, she retrieved a scalpel and number fifteen blade and laid them in her lap. Her probing had started the wound to bleed again so she unwrapped another sterile piece of gauze and pressed it against her shoulder with her left hand, while reaching for the betadine swab sticks. Sutures, Steri-strips and needles were already laid out on the space blanket but her slippery gloves didn't allow for a proper grasp on the thin needles. Groaning, Sam took off the gloves, tossed them aside and grabbed a new pair from the med kit, as well as the surgical kit for the retractors she was going to need.

Wishing she had something stronger at her disposal she took another sip of water before slipping the new pair of gloves on and unwrapping a betadine swab stick to clean the injury on her shoulder. With most of her shoulder covered in the orange-colored topical antiseptic, Sam took the scalpel blade from its sterile pouch and attached it to the handle. After a moment's hesitation, she put the blade to her skin and made a small incision to enlarge the bullet's entry point. Clenching her jaw in concentration she let the fresh blood flow, hoping it would naturally rinse the wound some more and wiped the hair out of her eyes with the back of her wrist.

Once the scalpel was set aside, she splashed some ethanol on the retractors and with great difficulty managed to apply the tool to her shoulder injury, further opening the wound by about half an inch on each side. Sam took a steadying breath and willed away the dizziness she felt sneaking up on her. Swallowing, her gaze returned to her shoulder and she found herself wishing she had a mirror to get a closer look. Alas, she had to make do with awkwardly craning her neck.

She grabbed the forceps again and sprinkled more ethanol on them just to be safe before she started removing smaller pieces of debris from her wound. After what felt like forever but couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes considering the amount of blood coming from her wound and the fact that night hadn't fallen yet, she had close to a dozen little pieces of black plastic in her lap. Although she could feel her concentration slipping and the nausea was coming back with a vengeance, Sam decided those were probably the last pieces of radio casing embedded into her skin and moved the forceps to her idle left hand to use the index finger of her right hand to probe inside the bullet hole. The bloody glove made it difficult to determine the textures of what she was feeling but she still managed to locate the foreign metal shell of the full metal jacket bullet from her CO's Beretta.

Extracting her finger, she took a moment to wipe the sweat from her face with her right arm and then grabbed the forceps again. She took a few deep breaths before inserting them and managed to retrieve the bullet from her flesh, all the while gritting her teeth. Sam dropped the forceps with bullet on the ground in relief, removed the retractors and leaned back against the tree, panting as if she had just ran ten miles. Only when she began to sway to the side did she realize she wasn't finished yet.

Gathering all her strength, she reached for a pack of gauze to put pressure on the wound that was bleeding freely again and tore it open with her teeth. With her right hand, she put it against the hole in her shoulder and used her left to get the sutures and needles. It took her a while to get it right because of the limited mobility of her left arm due to the injury and IV but eventually she gets it and throws the used gauze to the side to start stitching up the gaping hole in her shoulder with her dominant hand.

The result wasn't her best work and certainly wouldn't win her any awards, but she was pleased with the result nonetheless because it would keep her alive for now – or so she hoped. After taking yet another break during which she drank some water and took a moment to close her eyes – all the while keeping her ears open for any enemy activity – Sam reached for the Steri-strips and applied them to her skin to aid the stitches in closing the wound as tight as possible. To top it all off she placed another piece of betadine gauze over the strips and covered it with a pad of gauze, which she taped into place.

It took her some effort to gather up all the things she had used but in spite of her exhaustion and blood loss, she managed to put everything back into the med kit, including the used and discarded items because she couldn't afford to leave any more of a trail behind. After that, she felt she deserved a break and rummaged through the pockets of her vest to retrieve the power bar she had stored there. She munched on it listlessly, all too aware of the fact that she needed the energy and nutrients. Once she had finished the whole thing, she stuffed the wrapper back into the pocket and flushed the bar down with another swig of water.

The food made her feel a bit better but as she looked up at the darkening sky she realized she was going to need better shelter from the storm. Sam didn't think it was a good idea to spend the night in her current spot or get caught out in the rain that was bound to come any minute now. It wasn't until she attempted to sit up straighter that she became aware of the ache in her side and was reminded of her other wound. Cursing herself for nearly forgetting, she lifted her shirt and undid the makeshift bandage to check it out; it looked swollen and was an angry red but it didn't appear as if any more blood had leaked through. Just to be on the safe side she cleaned it up again and used some Steri-strips instead of actual stitches because she didn't think those were necessary for the otherwise clean and debris-free wound and then covered it with a fresh betadine gauze and covered it with a pad of regular gauze taped to her skin.

Emotionally and physically exhausted she lowered her shirt and leaned back against the tree. Soon she would have to get moving but she didn't want to risk passing out the moment she stood, so she decided to wait until the IV bag was empty and her blood volume hopefully somewhat restored. In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to get some shuteye, would it? Just a few minutes…


	10. Debrief

**Stargate Command**   
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**   
**August 3, 1997**

Jack was more than pleased to be returning home with all of his teammates accounted for and relatively unharmed. The sight that greeted them upon stepping foot through the 'gate on the other side though was a bit disturbing: the SFs were all very tense and grim-faced while General Hammond – already standing in the 'gate room, which was unusual in itself – looked uncharacteristically upset and even a bit conflicted. As a matter of fact the atmosphere in the room was rather depressing and sad, which made Jack refrain from any sarcastic comments or jokes; he may not be comfortable talking about feelings and such but that didn't mean he wasn't perceptive or incapable of reading body language.

"SG-1, I'm glad to see all of you are safe and sound," General Hammond greeted them.

Jack raised a brow while his teammates all nodded at the base commander. "Something wrong, Sir?"

"SG-7 encountered trouble off-world."

"Trouble?" Jack questioned, having noticed his CO's hesitance before he replied.

"Enemy forces." He paused but after seeing the team's inquiring faces and their looks cast at the grim-faced SFs, he relented. "There was one casualty."

"Doctor Carter?"

Hammond gave Daniel a sympathetic look at his question. "I'm afraid so, Doctor Jackson."

Jack realized the expression on his friend's face probably meant the Doctor was that geek friend he'd mentioned a few days ago. He clasped the archeologist's shoulder and squeezed it in sympathy, biting his tongue not to make a scathing comment about sending scientists on field missions without any training. "I'm sorry to hear it, General," he said instead. "How's the rest of the team?"

"One of the other members received a staff blast to the leg and they were all in the infirmary to keep him company last I heard," Hammond said. "We will discuss the details about this later, Jack. Right now, I need your team to get to the infirmary for their post-mission exams. Debriefing in half an hour. Dismissed."

"Yes Sir," he muttered, beckoning his team to follow him. The trip to the infirmary was made in silence, everyone seemingly understanding the death of one of their own – no matter how long, or short in this case – was a serious matter. Jack himself also had no idea what he could say to Daniel to make him feel better. After all, he didn't really know anything about Daniel's connection to this dead scientist other than a brief mention of them having been pen pals or something and how much Daniel had been looking forward to meeting the Doctor upon returning from their respective missions. More than likely Jack would just end up putting his foot in his mouth and upsetting his friend even more, so he chose silence as well.

When they entered the infirmary the nurses already seemed to be waiting for them, each ushering them to separate beds. Jack kept an eye on his team as he was led to a cubicle and waved at Lou Ferretti's team who were over in the corner. A quick glance around revealed a few more patients of whom Jack only recognized Sergeant Siler who was fast asleep. There was also a young man who barely looked old enough to have finished high school let alone the Academy lying in one of the beds on the other side, with a thick bandage around his elevated leg. "That the guy from SG-7?" He asked one of the nurses.

"Yes, Colonel," she said. "He'll make a full recovery. Now, just let me…"

Jack zoned out as she started taking his vitals, glancing towards where his team was instead. He could hear someone inquiring about "Mister Teal'c's" health and if the Jaffa had any injuries aside from his thigh wound from his latest mission. Naturally, Teal'c was fine, having his symbiote to keep him in perfect health and except for a brief skirmish with a bunch of Apophis' Jaffa after Jack and Kershaw went back to the planet for the rest of the Cory trial, nothing physical had occurred and everyone was more or less fine. Well, except for Daniel's state of mind perhaps, after receiving the news about his friend's death.

"Colonel?"

He started and was surprised to see the CMO standing next to him, syringe in hand. "Doc?"

"I need to take a blood sample, Sir," she said.

Nodding in reluctant acceptance Jack held out his arm and let her do her thing. "My team okay?"

"Of course," Doctor Fraiser said. "Mister Teal'c's injury has already started to heal and he assures me his leg will be fine in a day or two. One of my nurses is cleaning the debris from his wound as we speak and if the staff blast only affected the upper layers of the skin he can probably leave the infirmary once she's done, as long as he takes it easy."

"Hammond wants us to debrief right away after this," he made a vague hand gesture to encompass the check-up, "and a shower."

"I don't think that will be a problem."

Pleased, Jack allowed himself a small smile before indicating the two beds occupied by his other teammates. "Daniel and Kershaw?"

"Lieutenant Kershaw was unharmed and will be good as new after a shower, I'm sure," the Doc said. "Doctor Jackson doesn't have any physical injuries but he seems to be upset and unfocused."

He nodded in understanding and shot a look at the boyish man on the other side of the infirmary. "Hammond told us SG-7 ran into trouble and that guy got injured but another scientist died. Apparently, this Carter and Daniel were friends and they were looking forward to meeting up, so I'm not surprised he's taking it hard."

The CMO's face showed some sadness as she handed him a cotton-wool pad to press against the site of injection and started labeling the blood samples. "Yes, I heard. Airman Adams' injury is more serious than Mister Teal'c's and if it hadn't been for the first aid he received off-world he might not have made it."

"Carter?"

"Yes, and after Adams lost consciousness Colonel Grieves managed to carry him back to the 'gate," she explained.

Jack cast another glance at the injured Airman and wondered how the guy felt about his teammate's fate. If the boy was anything like him he would probably feel guilty for getting wounded in the first place, assuming Carter got caught off-guard while attending to his injury. Unfortunately, a lot of medical personnel – or those with mere medical training – lost their lives in the field while trying to save someone else's. "How's he taking it?"

The Doc followed his gaze and shrugged. "He's been out of it for most of the day. I don't think it has quite sunk in yet. The rest of his teammates were keeping him company earlier but they had to report back to the General."

"You know when the memorial for Carter is going to be?"

"I think you should talk to General Hammond about this, Sir," Doctor Fraiser said, avoiding his gaze.

Frowning, Jack wondered what she was keeping from him. A memorial was standard operating procedure for those that had lost their lives while on duty, either at the SGC or off-world. Heck, they'd even held one for Daniel last month after some fishy alien had brainwashed Teal'c, Kershaw and himself into thinking Daniel had died. It hadn't been until later that they had learned the truth, after Kershaw had volunteered to undergo hypnosis to retrieve her memories from the mission. "Something wrong, Doc?"

The petite woman grabbed her things and headed over to the curtain to leave. "I'm not allowed to discuss the case further, Sir. Not until you've spoken to the General."

"Okay," he drawled the word, righting his BDUs and getting up. He figured he'd learn more about what had happened to SG-7 after his own debriefing and made his way over to his teammates. "Anyone up for some cake?"

Teal'c gave him one of his regal nods, Kershaw seemed eager to get a snack – that girl almost rivaled Teal'c during meals – but Daniel was doing his kicked-puppy-dog routine.

"Daniel?"

"Huh?" He started, glancing around. "What, Jack?"

"If you're done here we should head to the commissary for a snack before our debriefing. Maybe getting some of those chocolate walnut cookies will help you feel better, eh?"

Daniel huffed in response but still got up from his bed. "I'll just get some coffee to go."

Jack waited until the other two members of their team got up and made his way over to the door. "Go where? We barely have enough time to make it to the commissary and hit the showers before the debriefing. You're not going back to your lab, Daniel. You'll get lost in some  _fascinating_  book about some long-dead culture and Hammond will get pissed at you being a no-show."

"Maybe the General can tell us some more about what happened to your friend, Daniel," Kershaw said, bumping the archeologist's shoulder gently.

"Indeed," Teal'c intoned. "I am most interested in learning about SG-7's recount of their mission. Their encounter with the Jaffa occurred approximately at the same time as ours with Shak'l and his men."

That seemed to get Daniel's attention. "You're right, Teal'c. I wonder if it were more of Apophis' Jaffa and if they were there for a harvest as well."

Just as they were about to leave the infirmary Doctor Fraiser joined them. "I want to see you back here tonight, Mister Teal'c, to see how your injury is healing. In the meantime, take it easy and if you experience any discomfort please come back right away," she said. After receiving a non-verbal affirmative from Teal'c she turned to Jack. "And I've scheduled your annual physical in two weeks from now, Colonel."

Jack winced at the reminder of his brief conversation with the CMO earlier, during his pre-mission checkup. Naturally, the Doctor had noticed the scratch marks – courtesy of his night with Sam – on his back and discreetly questioned whether there were any additional tests she needed to perform. It had been rather embarrassing to admit that yes, he was going to need to get his blood checked after having unsafe sex. Especially to Fraiser, who had been the one to treat him during that whole ordeal on Argos and he hadn't missed the reproving look the Doctor gave him. But it seemed she'd believed him when he elaborated and mentioned the condom tearing and how he'd noticed they had been past their expiration date  _after_  the sexual encounter.

Doctor Fraiser had taken pity on him and suggested she could do his annual physical earlier than usual, thereby including a full blood work including testing for STDs to prevent attracting any attention to extra testing specifically for him. Unfortunately, he would have to exhibit some patience as it would take about two weeks before any venereal disease was detectable. "Looking forward to it already, Doc," he said sarcastically.

"Annual physical?" Daniel questioned as they stepped out into the corridor, Kershaw and Teal'c behind them.

"Yeah, it's a mandatory military thing."

Of course, Daniel chose this subject to focus on rather than dwell on the loss of his friend. "I know that, Jack. I just thought it was odd to have an annual physical in August when the Program started the same year." He paused as they rounded the corner and waited to continue until after they'd passed the SFs stationed there. "I mean, didn't they give you one of those when you got back from retirement? You know, when you came back to Abydos the second time."

He sighed, slightly annoyed that the Doc's scheme piqued Danny Boy's interest. "Yeah well, what can I say? Maybe Fraiser wants to do the physicals herself rather than rely on those Doc Nimzik did before he was killed. Or maybe she's been ordered to do them again now, rather than next year because of the upcoming budget review. If there is unfit personnel Hammond has to make adjustments to his proposal, either to get new people reassigned here or invest in a different exercise regimen and new equipment for the gym." He was making it up as he went along but his friend didn't seem to notice. "Hey, you might want to increase your workouts in the gym too and work a bit on your self-defense because I wouldn't be surprised if Fraiser is going to test the fitness of civilians too."

"What? My fitness is fine," Daniel protested.

"For a civilian, maybe."

"Jack!"

He shrugged as they reached the elevators. "I'm just saying that our team can only move as fast as the slowest member, just like Hanno's people. Kershaw is pretty fit," he said, with a nod to his 2IC who smiled in response, "and Teal'c can outrun all of us and still not tire. You, on the other hand, trip over your own feet all the damn time."

"That's not true," Daniel said petulantly. "Besides, shouldn't Christina go first? I mean,  _Kershaw_  comes before  _O'Neill_."

"Maybe Fraiser didn't want to do it in alphabetical order and instead sorts by rank and seniority," Jack said, hitting the button for the commissary after the doors of the elevator opened. "Who knows?"

"I guess Doctor Fraiser will let me know when it's my turn then," Kershaw said as everyone else entered the car.

Jack clasped his hands and rubbed them together. "That's the spirit! Now, let's get some cake."

* * *

"… and that's when Hanno decided Teal'c had changed, just like we'd been trying to tell him all along," Daniel said, concluding his retelling of the events on Cartago.

Hammond looked around the table at the team, seeing everyone nod in agreement. "Just like that?"

"Well, he did kinda save Hanno's life and that of everyone else present," Jack said. "Oh and I might have mentioned that we could teach those folks how to defend themselves for the next time the Jaffa come knocking."

"You did, Colonel?"

He shrugged. "It's either that or hoping they'll be able to make it to the caves next time."

"But wouldn't they just retaliate if Cartago is one of their favorite places to capture future hosts?" Daniel asked, his question seemingly directed at Teal'c.

The Jaffa waited until all eyes were on him before he responded. "Apophis visits this planet approximately once or twice per decade for harvest, depending on his need and location at the time."

"I was under the impression Cartago was used for," Hammond grimaced, "'harvesting' often?"

"Indeed. However, it is located in a neutral section of the galaxy and not under the domain of one Goa'uld."

Lieutenant Kershaw's interest was piqued. "You mean any Goa'uld can, um, harvest people from Cartago?"

Teal'c inclined his head in an affirmative before he elaborated. "Many primitive planets similar to Cartago offer nothing to the Goa'uld but human slaves and are therefore, as you would say, open season at this time of year."

"That would explain why there aren't any temples or a specific deity they worship," Daniel mused aloud.

"Makes sense," Jack said. "Humans are nothing but commodities to the Goa'uld and it's not like they have to guard them when they're not going anywhere and will continue to reproduce, whereas they would need their Jaffa to guard and oversee things like mining for gold or that naquadah stuff because it's precious. Why waste manpower on Cartago, especially if you're only gonna drop by once every few years?"

"Indeed."

General Hammond nodded slowly, clearly processing everything he'd been told about their mission to Cartago. "So, what you're saying, Teal'c, is that it won't hurt to teach these people how to defend themselves?"

"It would not," the Jaffa agreed. "Apophis' latest attempt to harvest humans from that world has been thwarted by us and with his Jaffa not returning he most likely will move on to another planet, similar to Cartago."

"And what about the other Goa'uld?"

"If Apophis has mentioned his intentions to the other System Lords they will not visit the planet again in the next few years to allow the population to restore itself, Daniel Jackson."

Daniel smiled in relief. "That's good. I hope we can send some people to help Hanno and his people then, General?"

"I'm sure something can be arranged," Hammond said. "I will discuss it with the team leaders in our next meeting."

"Sir, if I may?" Kershaw piped up.

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

She smiled politely and glanced from the General to Teal'c and back. "There is something that mystifies me, Sir. Why would Apophis be harvesting more future hosts on Cartago when he already took Sha're and Skaara a few months ago? I mean, he chose them on Chulak and ordered Teal'c to kill the rest of the prisoners. If he wanted more hosts couldn't he have just taken one of the refugees we freed?"

General Hammond looked at her pensively before he too turned to the former First Prime of Apophis. "I have to admit I was wondering the same thing, especially in light of the Jaffa attack on P3X-425."

"That's the planet Doctor Carter visited," Daniel said in a dejected tone, suddenly back to his sad demeanor from before the debriefing at the reminder of his friend's death.

"The attack on SG-7 was also by Apophis' Jaffa?" Jack questioned his superior, still wondering why Doc Fraiser hadn't been allowed to discuss the matter with him.

The base commander shifted in his seat, looking a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden. "We haven't been able to determine this yet. Lieutenant Colonel Grieves and Lieutenant Isaacs' accounts of the Jaffa and their arrival are somewhat conflicting and Airman Adams is the one who probably got the best look at them, but he's been drifting in and out of consciousness since arriving back at the SGC. Doctor Fraiser has changed his medication and assured me he will be more lucid when he wakes up again."

"So, we have no ID on the Jaffa?"

"The team's commander said he didn't get a good look at them but Isaacs said it might have been a serpent tattoo," Hammond replied to Kershaw's question. "This was their first encounter with Jaffa, so it's not too surprising they can't easily recognize the tattoos."

The Lieutenant nodded in understanding and then turned to Teal'c again. "Maybe it will help if they see Teal'c's tattoo?"

"Yeah, Teal'c can visit them in the infirmary or perhaps join us in a debriefing of their mission," Jack said. "He wouldn't mind, right?"

"I would not, O'Neill."

He smirked at his friend before glancing back to his CO. "Great! We can chat about that later then."

Daniel looked up from his study of the briefing room table, frowning. "Teal'c, why  _do_  you think Apophis sent Jaffa to Cartago and, possibly, P3X-425?"

"I am unsure, Daniel Jackson."

"He already took my wife and her brother, so what would he need with another host?"

Jack felt his heart ache for his friend, as well as Sha're and Skaara. It had been clear Daniel and Sha're had fallen head over heels in love when he visited them on Abydos again and Skaara had turned into a fine young man. Even though Skaara and Charlie looked nothing alike at all, the Abydonian kid had still reminded Jack of his late son and he hated the idea of him – and Sha're – being snaked and trapped in their own bodies. Daniel made a good point though and so had Kershaw: it  _was_  strange that Apophis was still roaming the galaxy for humans when he hadn't thought twice about killing everyone in his cells six months ago. "Is it normal for him to do so many of these 'harvests' after already having made a few hosts?"

"The Goa'uld do not share power easily which is why Apophis and the other System Lords rarely make other hosts," Teal'c said.

"But…?" Jack questioned, having heard the hesitancy in his voice.

"But when they do, they most often do it for a mate or offspring."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as Teal'c more or less confirmed what Jack – and probably the others too – had already suspected of Sha're and Skaara's fates. Having met Kendra on Cimmeria two months ago they all knew something, if not everything, of the host survived and the thought of Sha're being forced to become Apophis' mate was just sickening. Daniel had paled considerably at the knowledge Teal'c had so far kept to himself, most likely not to hurt their friend even further.

Kershaw was the first to break the silence by clearing her throat. "So, are we to assume Apophis has more offspring or possibly another mate?"

"The incubation time for a prim'ta is seven to eight of your years," Teal'c explained, referring to the larval-like baby snakes they'd all gotten a good look at after the Hathor debacle, "after which they mature and are ready for implantation. However, not all the prim'ta of one batch survive and those who do are not always considered suitable, either due to their parentage or some other reason."

"You're saying if they're not old Pop's snakes he gets rid of them?"

"Indeed, O'Neill. However, some who show promise are sometimes rewarded with a host and given a position of underlord to prove themselves to Apophis."

Frowning, Hammond spoke up. "Underlord? I thought that's why the Goa'uld use Jaffa and First Primes."

"Underlords are often minor Goa'uld in service of a more powerful Goa'uld or System Lord. They are given control of a planet or part of their master's dominion in space to allow the more powerful Goa'uld to attend more important matters."

"That makes sense. They could have one of their underlords keep an eye on their mining planets while they conquer other parts of the galaxy."

Teal'c inclined his head. "You are correct, Lieutenant Kershaw. Sometimes, underlords are even given control of a Goa'uld's ship or part of their fleet, depending on their performances. However, most of these positions are filled by their offspring."

"Kinda like Apophis made you and if you don't do what he says he can break you?" Jack questioned, referring to the giving of hosts and positions.

"Indeed."

The General looked concerned. "Teal'c, are you implying Apophis is strengthening his army?"

"That may be so, General Hammond."

"Why? To conquer more planets or attack Earth?" Kershaw asked, looking around the table at everyone. "I mean, if he's making underlords to keep an eye on his planets and gives Skaara as his son control of a ship or large part of domain, Apophis must be planning something big, right?"

"That's a good question, Lieutenant," Hammond said.

Running a hand through his hair Jack went over everything they had discussed and kept coming back to when they first met Teal'c. "Still, the question remains why Apophis would go searching for more hosts now after ordering so many potentials to be killed just a few months ago."

"Perhaps they were unsuitable, like your Sergeant Kettering," Teal'c said. After swearing allegiance to Earth he had explained what had happened to the Sergeant who'd been kidnapped from the gate room when Apophis – and Teal'c himself – had first come through the Stargate on Earth.

"But they didn't even bother checking everyone else out," Kershaw reminded him. "Didn't you say Apophis' mate rejected the Sergeant herself? Apophis and his men barely glanced at everyone in the prison cell before picking Skaara."

Jack cast a glance at Daniel who had been unusually quiet throughout their discussion but he figured that wasn't too surprising since they had been talking about the geek friend who'd been killed and his wife and brother-in-law who had both been kidnapped and snaked by Apophis. Perhaps it would be better if the rest of the team wasn't present during the discussion of what had happened to SG-7 because Jack wasn't sure how much more Daniel could take at the moment. Shaking himself, he tried to focus on the discussion again.

"Apophis often only chooses those who are visually appealing for hosts, which is why his Jaffa visit so many different planets for harvests," Teal'c explained. "Many of the humans rejected by the symbiote will either be killed or become a slave in Apophis' court."

"He has human slaves?"

"Indeed, Lieutenant Kershaw. Some will be kept for beneficial skills or talents they possess, others for menial tasks, health or their physical appeal. Lo'taurs are the highest ranking human slaves and are often chosen for one of these reasons or a combination of them, and in emergencies they can be taken as temporary or permanent hosts."

"A backup, you say?" Jack didn't need him to elaborate what the ones with physical appeal would be used for by Apophis in the meantime. "Why not use a Jaffa?"

"Um, well, that's probably a class problem," Daniel said, suddenly speaking up. "Jaffa are warriors, foot soldiers enslaved by the Goa'uld they serve and carry in their pouch, so it would be beneath a Goa'uld to take one of them as a host."

"Daniel Jackson is correct. However, it is also physically impossible for a Goa'uld to implant itself into a Jaffa because of the prim'ta they carry."

The archeologist was nodding in agreement as Teal'c explained. "And since a Jaffa dies pretty quickly once his symbiote is removed from their pouch there is hardly a window of opportunity for a Goa'uld to take him as a host even if he wanted to."

"As interesting as this is, gentlemen," Hammond said, looking between the two men, "it does not explain Apophis' recent, ah, harvesting."

"But it might, Sir," Kershaw said. "Like Teal'c said not all prim'tas from one batch survive and since we have no idea how often a Queen can reproduce it's possible that Apophis is harvesting hosts for a new batch now, either for more offspring and mates or underlords."

"Or lo'taurs," Daniel added.

The General glanced at the former First Prime of Apophis. "Teal'c?"

He raised his brow and then inclined his head. "I agree, General Hammond. However, it is more likely to be for mates or underlords than offspring: a Goa'uld's power is most often challenged by his offspring, which is why not many Goa'uld allow them to survive into maturity."

"Like a pharaoh and his sons, in Ancient Egypt," Daniel said.

"And now that he's got Sha're and probably a harem of female slaves would he really need another mate?" Jack questioned, wincing as he did because of the sensitive subject. Still, someone had to say it and Hammond was too polite and Kershaw too naïve. Teal'c hardly ever spoke of such things and he suspected it was because the Jaffa was ashamed of some of the things he had done and witnessed during his time as First Prime, or perhaps he knew such things – like sex slaves – were condemned on Earth, or at least in the Western world Teal'c had learned a bit about. "My bet is that Apophis is gathering an army to go to war with one of his cousins or attack Earth – either to destroy or enslave us, Sir."

Hammond sighed and rubbed a hand over his bald head. "Very well, I guess this means our teams have to keep their eyes and ears open and be even more careful out there."

"Maybe retrieve some big honking space guns too, in case Apophis  _is_  coming, Sir."

"That would be much appreciated by the brass and me, Jack," he said, chuckling softly.

"Perhaps we'll meet an advanced race on our next mission, Sir," Kershaw said.

Jack snorted, knowing the chances of that happening were slim and even then they had to be friendly  _and_  willing to share their technology, the latter of which had not yet happened with any of the advanced races they had met or befriended. It wasn't too surprising, really, considering the people on Earth were exactly the same; they weren't even willing to share technology with people on the same planet! "Now, if only we knew a way to convince all the advanced aliens to actually  _help_  us out."

"That's a conversation for another time, I'm afraid," Hammond said. "If that was all, I think we're done here, people. I will be expecting your mission reports within the week. Teal'c, I would like you to sit in on a video conference with the team leaders, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the President at the end of the week to discuss the meaning of these harvests and a possible attack on our planet."

"Very well, General Hammond," Teal'c replied.

"Jack, we need to talk; the rest of you are dismissed."

"Yes Sir," Jack said, knowing this was about SG-7. Seeing his team looking at him he waved them off. "Go on, enjoy your downtime. This may take a while."


	11. Retrieval

**Stargate Command**   
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**   
**August 3, 1997**

Jack got to his feet and pushed his chair aside as General Hammond moved towards his office.

"I take it this meeting is about Doctor Carter's death, sir?"

"Yes, Colonel," Hammond said, before entering his office. "And any possible fallout from the events."

Frowning, he made to follow him. What kind of fallout could he be talking about? "With all due respect, Sir, this is exactly what I was afraid of might happen when we put untrained civilians on an off-world team. A  _science_  team, for crying out loud!"

"Uh, Doctor Carter was military," Daniel piped up.

Jack winced at the accusing and hurt tone from his friend; he had assumed his team was already gone, but apparently the archeologist had lingered near the doorway. "Well, in that case you should refer to the guy's rank, not his salutation," he said, looking at Daniel over his shoulder. Sighing, he glanced between him and the General's office. "Look, I'm sorry about your friend but Hammond and I've got a lot to discuss from the sounds of it so why don't you get some rest? I'll fill you and the team in later."

"All right," Daniel said, clearly reluctant but also exhausted. "I'll either be in my lab or base quarters."

After making sure he had really left Jack went over to the base commander's office and apologized for the interruption. Upon the General's gesture he took a seat and for the second time in less than five minutes he was surprised when Hammond explained Carter was a she  _and_  a captain in the USAF. "Oh, guess she wouldn't have liked me assuming she was a he, eh?" He said, eliciting a soft chuckle from his CO. "You knew her, Sir?"

"Not well on a personal level, but I was the one to give her a quick tour of the base before bringing her to the infirmary for the usual check-up of new personnel. I am, however, familiar with her accomplishments and rather impressive military jacket."

"She was the second in command of SG-7 then?" Jack recalled what he'd been told about the team's composition a few days ago and how impressed he'd been upon hearing the 2IC's qualifications. Until Hammond got to the scientist bit, that is. Considering the team commander's rank the captain had to be the 2IC because placing an even higher-ranking officer on the team would be a waste of personnel.

"Yes, she was a rather promising officer…"

"… on paper?" He prompted, hearing Hammond trail off and noticing the disappointment on the man's face.

The General gave him a tight smile and shook his head. "No, she was more than qualified for field work, Colonel. She proved herself during the Gulf and the only reason she hadn't been assigned to the SGC was because the brass thought she was too valuable. She made several requests to be assigned to an off-world team but it was deemed too high a risk for someone with her skill set and, ironically, it wasn't until she requested reassignment to one of our labs that I managed to persuade the JCS to allow her on SG-7 for now."

"Ah, that why I got Kershaw instead of Carter as my 2IC?"

"Are you saying you're not satisfied with Lieutenant Kershaw, son?"

Now it was Jack's turn to shake his head. "No, Sir. She wouldn't still be on my team if I didn't think she had potential but you've got to admit Carter's way more qualified for the flagship team than a green lieutenant."

"I didn't think you would have wanted another scientist on your team," Hammond said with a small smile.

He shrugged. "Doesn't really matter anymore now does it? So, what happened for this 'promising officer' to get killed on her first off-world mission?"

All traces of humor left the General's face as he turned serious again and started explaining the difficulties of the situation. Apparently, there were conflicting reports from Lieutenant Isaacs and Lieutenant Colonel Grieves, while Airman Adams hadn't submitted one yet due to his injuries. "The way Lieutenant Colonel Grieves tells it is that she brought it on herself," he said.

Jack's eyebrows rose to his hairline in shock. He knew Grieves and his team hadn't really known each other but still, he would have expected more from a commanding officer when talking about the death of one of his subordinates. Not that he wanted the man to cover up any mistakes the Captain had made but throwing her under the bus like this? "How so?"

General Hammond rubbed his chin pensively before he turned to him and elaborated. "Apparently, Captain Carter removed the alien device she had been sent to investigate against orders –  _my_  orders."

"I take it this superb Captain-Doctor of yours wasn't in the habit of disobeying a direct order, Sir?"

Ignoring the sarcasm, Hammond continued. "The natives of P3X-425 had given us permission to examine the device – along with studying their active volcano and a recurring extreme weather phenomenon – under the condition that our people wouldn't move the device as it is their only protection against the elements and is considered to be a holy artifact. Without the express permission from the elders or chief no one is allowed to come near it unsupervised, let alone touch it."

"And Carter didn't get permission?"

"No, Colonel Grieves said they hadn't seen the chief since the first day on the planet and even then communication was difficult due to a language barrier. Only Grieves himself and Airman Adams spoke with him, so Captain Carter couldn't even have requested permission."

Jack was tempted to point out another mistake that had been made by sending a totally unprepared team on this mission upon hearing about the language difficulties, but he bit his tongue and kept it to himself for now. The General clearly knew the whole thing was a disaster and a costly one at that with the loss of one of their own. Next time the higher-ups were pushing for quick results he wouldn't hesitate to remind them of what had happened when they insisted on sending SG-7 on this supposed peaceful scientific mission, though. "She just took the doohickey?"

"He said she had already suggested they move it for further examination as she was limited in what kind of tests she could perform on the device while it was in its holder when it had been just the two of them in the compound. Naturally, he refused to go against the deal they had made with the natives out of fear of what might happen if they discovered it. The Captain didn't take this very well and when he went to check the perimeter she did it anyway. By the time he got back it was too late."

"How come, Sir?"

The General tapped his fingers on the folder in front of him and shook his head slowly. "This is where the story gets complicated, Colonel." He started explaining how Grieves claimed the Captain's actions must have somehow gotten back to the natives who, in turn, contacted the Jaffa in retribution.

Skeptical, Jack raised a brow as he leaned back in his chair. "Just like that? I was under the impression these folks hadn't been under Goa'uld control for a few generations by now but the Captain moving their precious doohickey is enough of a reason for them to contact their former suppressors to get back at SG-7 and thereby risking getting their planet  _enslaved_ again?"

"My point exactly, Colonel."

"What about the other two from SG-7? What did they say?"

Hammond sighed deeply before he replied. "Airman Adams hasn't said much except to state that Captain Carter gave him medical attention for his staff blast injury and Lieutenant Isaacs said their guides were convinced the Jaffa had come for a, um, harvest before they and all the other villagers fled into the hills."

"That certainly makes more sense," Jack mused aloud, "especially in light of Shak'l visiting Cartago around the same time. What did Isaacs say about Carter and the device?"

"He didn't know anything," he said, shaking his head. "Grieves had sent Airman Adams and the Lieutenant to take readings of the approaching storm on a different location while he stayed with the Captain as she examined the device in the compound."

_Convenient_ , Jack thought. He had to admit that splitting up the team wasn't too uncommon though, and told his CO this. "I usually stick Teal'c on Daniel if he's got something he needs to study and gets lost in the wonders of science, while Kershaw and I investigate something else or simply guard the perimeter."

"That was the Lieutenant Colonel's reasoning as well. It was fortunate too, in a way, because the other half of his team was at the location where we were hoping to build a temporary observatory like the one on Hanka and from there they heard the stargate activate. Airman Adams was able to get a closer look at it from the tree line and realized it were Jaffa and they were, at first, heading to the village. Lieutenant Isaacs thinks they must have overheard him and the Airman reporting to Colonel Grieves over the radio because a group of Jaffa later headed in their direction," General Hammond explained.

"Those Jaffa do have good hearing," he muttered to himself. "Let me guess, Grieves thinks the villagers told them about SG-7's location?"

"That's right."

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he reviewed the whole situation in his mind. "But if the villagers had contacted them wouldn't there have been someone to await the Jaffa at the 'gate and direct them to SG-7's location rather than letting the Jaffa raid their village and making all the natives run for their lives?"

The General nodded slowly, apparently pondering the same thing. "I'm not saying the scenario Colonel Grieves relayed is impossible but it does seem rather…"

"Far-fetched?" He supplied sarcastically. "Look, those natives would have to be pretty stupid to willingly call the Jaffa to their planet when they have no means to defend themselves against them. Not to mention that it might be a bit overkill to go through all this and risking  _enslavement_  just because Carter moved their doohickey."

"I was hoping Teal'c could shed some light on this report but I thought it best to discuss the whole thing with you first, Colonel. You can relay some of the things mentioned here today to the rest of your team if you deem it necessary, as I got the impression Doctor Jackson knew Captain Carter."

"Uh, yeah, apparently they'd been in contact while Carter was at the Pentagon and have been pen pals for a while…" Jack said, trailing off in confusion. "I'm sorry, Sir, but 'some of the things'?"

General Hammond took a deep breath and straightened up in his seat before he elaborated. "Jack, this whole incident is… well, frankly it's a nightmare. We don't know exactly what happened on that planet or why Captain Carter moved the device to begin with–"

"Scientific curiosity?" He suggested, even though he wasn't entirely convinced the Air Force's golden girl had actually  _moved_  the device. All the proof they had was Grieves' word against… well, nothing, considering the Captain was dead. "Sir, don't you think an exemplary officer – with a PhD nonetheless – would know better than to go against your direct orders simply to satisfy their curiosity? I know I'm always giving scientists a hard time about not touching things they're not supposed to but if this Carter was as good as you claim then I find it hard to believe she would do something like that in spite of her scientific background. I mean, she not only risked our alliance with the people of P3X-425 but also her own life and those of her teammates."

"That's precisely the problem here. Lieutenant Colonel Grieves' report implies that Captain Carter committed high crimes against an ally of the United States by stealing their technology," Hammond said. "Now, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the President cannot ignore these claims or sweep them under the rug, therefore they are insisting the case goes to the Air Force's Office of Special Investigations and we are to cooperate fully with them."

Grimacing, Jack felt more and more uncomfortable with the turns of events. "They want the AFOSI to launch an official investigation? Here?" He waved his hand around to indicate the underground base they were in that was about as top secret as anything could be. "The brass wants you to give a couple of OSI special agents free range of this facility and possibly send them to P3X-425 to see the scene where it happened? That's just what we need; more inexperienced people traveling through the 'gate and getting themselves killed!"

"Jack-"

"Come on, General, we don't even know whether Carter's intentions were malicious! Or if these allegations are even true! It's not like she can defend herself, now can she?"

Hammond raised his hand to indicate he had to calm down before things got out of hand. "Trust me Colonel; I'm just as conflicted about this as you are, if not more. However, Lieutenant Colonel Grieves made some serious allegations that need to be investigated. What if you got a new member on SG-1 and they did something reckless and against orders, thereby endangering the lives of your team and the alliance we have with the natives of that planet?"

Jack had to admit he wouldn't take it lying down. Heck, he'd probably shoot them himself! Except, he'd never had someone under his command do such a thing. Sure, Daniel didn't always follow orders thinking they were suggestions or didn't apply to him because he wasn't military and sometimes the situation could get dangerous, but Jack liked to think he could keep his people under control and if things  _would_  get out of hand he'd be the first to fix it. "I'm not saying we should disregard what Grieves said but don't you think Carter already paid the price, Sir? She's  _dead_ , what good could come of it to brand her a traitor now? Not only would it mean no military pension and such for the Captain's next-of-kin but it might also endanger our cover story. What are we gonna tell people? That she sold  _deep space radar telemetry_  to the Taliban?"

"I don't know, but I've got my orders to cooperate with the AFOSI and it won't do anyone, least of all the late Captain Carter, any good to disobey them."

"They're getting clearance then?"

The General shook his head and gestured to a pile of folders on the corner of his desk. "No, not even the Director has high enough clearance to be read into the Program but we have to give the special agents an office to work in, SG-7's mission reports albeit redacted and those involved will most likely be interviewed by the agents."

"So, basically, it's gonna be a big waste of time," Jack stated. "They can't know what we do, where the incident occurred, what the mission objective and circumstances were…"

"Those are my orders."

He snorted softly at the politics of the whole thing and once again thanked his lucky stars that he'd already left DC when all this went down. If he'd still been there, he probably would have been forced to sit through another dozen meetings about how to handle the situation while keeping the SGC secret and the OSI happy and then he would have to go through the mission report with the JCS and POTUS… "With all due respect, that's just ridiculous, Sir. They can't prove what happened either way if Grieves is the only witness, so we might as well hand Carter's body over to her next-of-kin so they can bury her – with full military honors – and get the financial stuff worked out as well. Does she even have any next-of-kin?"

"No dependents, but her father is military and she also has a brother," Hammond said. "Unfortunately, we don't have a body to hand over, though."

"He left her body there?! What happened to no one gets left behind?"

"Now, son, you don't know the specifics of the retreat: Colonel Grieves had sent Lieutenant Isaacs out to the stargate to scan the perimeter and dial home while he and Carter were supposed to get Airman Adams back. However, Adams passed out while the Captain attended to his injury and just as she finished up and got her weapon ready she got hit by a lucky staff blast and their cover was compromised. Colonel Grieves barely made it out of there in time with the Airman and you may have noticed a few scorch marks on the walls of the gate room that made it through with the three members of SG-7."

Jack's head was spinning at this new information and although he could appreciate the difficult retreat to the 'gate, he couldn't understand how Grieves could have left Carter's body there regardless of whether she was responsible for the firefight or not. "And no one thought to go back for her body? Hell, did he even check to see if she was actually  _dead_?"

"Colonel," Hammond warned, narrowing his eyes, "that's enough."

"I'm sorry Sir, but I respectfully disagree! What kind of precedent are we setting if we're telling team leaders it's okay to leave your people behind if you suspect they may have screwed up and are responsible for those Jaffa on your six? The spot for the observatory was less than a klick from the 'gate if I recall correctly so it shouldn't be too hard to check it out, right?" Jack was well aware he had issues about leaving people behind after what happened to him during the Gulf and how he'd ended up in an Iraqi prison for four months, but he knew Hammond was aware of his background. "Look, I understand if Grieves doesn't want to go back himself considering his view of the Captain but SG-1 could go in, retrieve her body and get out in a flash."

"The JCS want us to lock the planet's address out of the dialing computer just to be safe." The General held up his hand to forestall any protest and continued. "All we know about these natives is that they have an extremely advanced piece of alien technology which one of our own tried to steal. Now, it's entirely possible they're furious about this after we promised to uphold our end of the deal and I'm sorry to say that we have no idea if they have other advanced technology they could defend themselves with if we were to return to their planet. After all, they somehow managed to get rid of the Goa'uld ruling their planet a few decades ago and the device that protects them against the extreme elements has to have come from somewhere."

Jack nodded reluctantly, knowing he had a point. "But Carter is dead, so their precious doohickey isn't in any danger of getting stolen or moved again. I'm willing to take the risk that they'll shoot first and ask questions later, Sir. At the very least visiting them will give us an opportunity to explain ourselves and to make it clear we never intended to double-cross them."

"And what about your team, Colonel?"

"… I could just take Teal'c with me," he suggested after a beat. Daniel would probably be too emotional to search for his dead and left-behind friend's body and while Kershaw had handled herself well these past few missions, she wasn't the stealthiest. Teal'c would know what to expect and he was great at tracking too in case it was necessary. "Just give us a few hours, Sir. I can go talk to my team right now, get Teal'c and head out. Once we're back you can lock out the planet just like the JCS want."

General Hammond sighed and rubbed a hand over his bald head. "I don't know, Jack. This is a tricky situation and you know the brass is already complaining about any unscheduled trips we make… I'm not sure I can justify this, especially not with the risk of an attack on the other side by either the angry natives or possibly some Jaffa who haven't left yet."

Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and gave his CO a beseeching look. "Give my team some time to give you options, Sir," he suggested. "We'll look at Grieves' and Isaacs' reports and maybe chat to Adams if he's lucid. Perhaps Teal'c can shed some light on the Jaffa attack too once he hears about what happened. There's still time to retrieve Captain Carter's body before you have to break the news to her dad and tell him there's no body to bury…"

"I can give you one hour, Colonel. Dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir," he said. Rising from his chair he nodded at the General and was pleased to know the man was just as reluctant as he himself to leave one of their own behind, even if they were already dead. Jack meant what he said earlier about it being a dangerous precedent because if they started leaving dead bodies behind without a second thought then what would happen if someone only  _appeared_  to be dead or was in danger of dying? It was too slippery a slope to risk it in his opinion, considering his own experiences. Not to mention it was already hard enough for a parent to have to bury their kid, let alone if there was no body and some excuse about a training mishap rather than the truth.

* * *

**P3X-425**   
**Milky Way Galaxy**

In the end, Daniel was the one who managed to convince Hammond and the JCS that they needed to retrieve his Captain-Doctor friend's body, much to Jack's surprise. It seemed that for once their roles had been reversed: Jack's arguments had mostly been emotional, while Daniel's had been surprisingly tactical. Apparently, Carter wasn't just any military scientist who'd been eager to join the SGC, but she had been responsible for creating the dialing computer, correcting the addresses from the Abydos cartouche for stellar drift, and designing the  _iris_  among other things.

Jack had to admit he'd been mildly impressed even if he'd never given much thought to whomever had been behind that stuff and a lot of the doohickeys – like the handheld scanner-thingy and the homing beacon – they used off-world but Hammond had of course been aware that those were Carter's doing. Her scientific accomplishments hadn't been enough of a reason to approve a retrieval mission, until Daniel pointed out the risks of the Jaffa getting their hands on her. Dead or alive, they could possibly use a sarcophagus to heal or revive the Captain-Doctor and torture her into giving away  _a lot_  of the SGC's secrets.

Teal'c had confirmed that Apophis indeed possessed a sarcophagus and while it was rarely if ever used on Jaffa or humans, he could make an exception for Carter if they suspected she could give them valuable information about the Tau'ri, like how to disable the iris and complete an attack on the planet through the 'gate. Grieves had argued against a retrieval mission, citing the dangers of going back into a possibly hostile area where there might still be Jaffa and angry natives, plus an extreme storm that could start any minute and a very active volcano that looked like it was about ready to erupt.

General Hammond had, fortunately, overruled him and agreed with Jack that SG-1 was experienced enough – especially with Teal'c on their side – to realize what they might be getting themselves into. The other two members of SG-7 had identified the Jaffa on P3X-425 as serpent guards upon seeing Teal'c's gold tattoo as well, which was another very good reason for the General's superiors to push for a retrieval, like it had been their idea from the start.

Ten minutes after the decision to go back for Carter's body was made, Jack had led Daniel and Teal'c through the 'gate in their extreme wet weather gear. Kershaw was sitting this one out. She had no special skills they could use and needed the rest after SG-1's long mission. Jack hadn't been entirely sure taking Daniel with them was a good idea but Hammond – and Daniel himself – had pointed out that if they did run into the natives the archaeologist slash linguist might be the only one capable of talking their way out of another sticky situation and explaining that Carter wasn't supposed to have gone for their device.

The grass around the 'gate's platform was trampled from recent traffic but there were no discernible footprints, just a beaten path leading northwest to where the village was according to Ferretti whom they had briefly spoken with prior to leaving. Northeast of the 'gate was the clearing both SG-2 and SG-7 had described in their reports but with the darkened sky it was difficult to see whether there were any tracks there, as it was obviously a lesser traveled area. Isaacs from SG-7 had explained the route he'd taken through the woods on the right of the clearing and Grieves had grunted that he'd gone the same way with an unconscious Adams, so that's where the three men of SG-1 were now heading towards as well.

Just like Teal'c had predicted there were no signs to indicate there were any Jaffa left on the planet. If Apophis had sent his men to P3X-425 – which was in the same section of space as Cartago, albeit on the outskirts – for a simple harvest then they would have left right after the resistance against them had ended and they got the number of required villagers they needed. Still, SG-1 wasn't going to take any chances and considering the remaining members of SG-7 had gone through the woods to the stargate from their cover where Carter had been killed, it seemed best to simply follow the same route. If there were any lingering Jaffa or angry villagers they would most likely stick to the clearing and more traveled paths rather than move through the woods and it might be easier to find the rock behind which SG-7 had taken cover this way too.

Teal'c was taking point since he was a good tracker and could easily deduce where SG-7 had moved through the woods from their reports and the signs they'd unwittingly left behind in the underbrush. Daniel was uncharacteristically quiet but Jack, who was bringing up the rear, couldn't say he was surprised bearing in mind their mission's purpose. He just hoped finding the Captain-Doctor's body wouldn't freak out his friend and that they'd be able to simply gather her belongings and carry her back to the SGC without incident. After about twenty minutes in which they crossed two small streams on foot they exited the woods right where SG-7 had come under fire. There was a large boulder to their left and before the words had even left Jack's mouth both Teal'c and Daniel moved towards it.

"Um, I don't see her," Daniel said, stating the obvious as he indicated the flattened grass and dirt behind the boulder. "This is the place, right?"

"Indeed."

Jack turned on his flashlight to get a better look at what Teal'c was pointing at from his kneeled position on the dirt. Something glinted in the artificial light. "Shell casings," he said.

"These imprints most likely belong to Airman Adams and Captain Carter," Teal'c said, indicating the vague imprints on the ground.

"What about these tracks? Are they drag marks?"

The Jaffa moved over to where Daniel was standing and examined the markings in the dirt. "There are footprints as well as drag marks, O'Neill."

Daniel took a few steps back towards the woods, now also shining his flashlight over the forest floor. "They just seem to stop here. They don't go anywhere."

Jack suggested they could have been from Grieves and Adams, since the Airman had been lifted by his CO for almost the entire trip back to the 'gate. Daniel, however, disagreed and pointed out that they'd been covered with dirt and leaves, as if someone had tried to hide them and asked Teal'c whether this was a normal Jaffa MO.

"There is no need for a hunter to mask his tracks and it is too much effort to do so upon capturing the prey."

Confused by the lack of a body, Jack circled the boulder illuminating the ground with his flashlight as he went. There was nothing on the other side of it aside from some blackened stone and a lot of dead or damaged vegetation due to the firefight that had ensued. Getting frustrated, he joined his teammates and leaned back against the boulder, flashlight hanging limply from his hand. He looked up at the sky when Daniel made a comment about the approaching storm but when he lowered his gaze to the ground again something caught his eye. They weren't tracks from someone being dragged away but rather someone crawling on their own strength!

He felt a sense of dread creeping up his spine at the discovery and couldn't help recall his own narrow misses in the Middle East. Over a decade ago, he'd had a little parachuting mishap which resulted in him breaking a lot of bones and crawling through the desert for nine days to reach safety and although he didn't remember everything, he could still recall the sheer agony of his injuries and forcing himself to crawl because he was behind enemy lines. Swallowing against the sick feeling in his stomach, he scanned the ground up close and reached out into the dirt and leaves when something glistened in the light cast by his flashlight. The dirt was loose and when he brushed his fingers through it, he felt wetness. "Blood," he said, holding his hand up in the light.

"Doctor Carter must have tried to cover her tracks," Daniel said excitedly.

"If this belongs to her she's injured," Jack reminded him before he got his hopes up after he brushed away more of the coverings to find a puddle of dried blood. Again, his suspicions about Grieves' story reared their ugly head and he was glad the man hadn't accompanied them because he wasn't sure what he would have done to him. What if Carter was still alive and hiding somewhere? That was the only logical explanation for the blood and the covering of tracks. Getting up, he leaned his free hand against the boulder and took a closer look at the rock. "No scorch marks."

They searched the woods for about half an hour until Teal'c called out to say he found something. Jack's heart was in his throat when he joined him and noticed the underbrush had been disturbed by someone who hadn't tried to cover their tracks anymore. Daniel started searching through the shrubs and bushes almost frantically but after kneeling down to study the indentations in the forest floor Teal'c spotted an opening between low-handing branches of one of the huge trees. "There!"

Jack dashed forward, caution leaving his mind as he thought about what might have happened to the poor Captain in the hours since her team had left her on this planet to die. He barely felt it when a couple of branches slapped back in his face as he pushed them aside to get access to the hiding place Carter had found for herself. His heart, however, sank when he uncovered the spot.

"Jack? Did you find her?"

He stared at the disturbed area, shaking his head in reply. "No," he said, glancing at his teammates over his shoulder as he got up. "She's not here."

There was a moment of silence during which he could almost hear Daniel's hopes being dashed but in the end, it was Teal'c who spoke. "O'Neill, I have found something."

"God damn it," Jack cursed, kicking at the nearest shrub when he realized the implications of the half-empty IV bag in the Jaffa's hand. If Carter had lost a lot of blood then she – with her medical field training – would know she needed to increase her blood volume to prevent from bleeding out, which meant she never would have removed the IV bag before it was empty.

Daniel frowned before he kneeled down to retrieve something from underneath the innocent shrub. "Um, I think this was her med kit, Jack."


	12. Whereabouts

**Location Unknown**

Sam awoke slowly, blinking rapidly in the darkness to clear her head. For a moment, she thought night had fallen on P3X-425 but then she realized she was lying on something hard, a stone slab of some kind. Last she knew, she had been sitting on the forest floor resting against a large tree! Had someone taken her? The Jaffa? Was she even still on the same planet? She certainly wasn't in an infirmary or hospital as far as she could tell. It was unnaturally dark – nearly pitch black – and when she moved her right hand she felt the roughness of a man-made wall next to her. An attempt to sit up had her crying out in pain, her left shoulder feeling like it was on fire and she quickly collapsed back onto the slab.

She forced herself to breathe through the pain and only when she had herself under control again did she take another look around. Her head felt heavy when she lifted it and she quickly gave up when her vision blurred and she started to feel light-headed. Groaning, she lay back and used her right hand to examine her side – which was still painful but manageable – and slowly moved it up to her injured shoulder, which had her gasping in pain.

Clearly, the morphine had stopped working but at least the bandage was dry and not sticky with blood. Probing the wound through the bandage had her gritting her teeth as pain flared down her arm; touching the surrounding tissue had nausea welling up inside of her. Sam's mouth turned even dryer at the possibility of nerve damage from when she clumsily removed the bullet, which could explain why it was so darn hard and painful for her to move her left arm!

Before she fully allowed the possibility to sink in she heard noises from afar. Heavy footfalls accompanied by metal clanking and the soft scraping of boots against stone floor. Faint light crept closer towards her location, chasing shadows away and revealing more of her surroundings – the people heading her way had to be carrying some form of illumination with them.

Once her eyes adjusted to the light Sam was able to see she was in some kind of cell. Aside from the stone slab she was lying on there was a bucket in one corner which probably functioned as a latrine, but nothing else. The cell was maybe six by eight feet and its walls were made of rough stone like she'd felt earlier, except for the one across from her 'bed' which was basically a gridded section of thick iron beams with a door in it.

Not wanting to be vulnerable or appear weak to her captors she struggled to sit up on the stone slab. Her shoulder injury was pounding and sweat broke out on her forehead and back from the effort but eventually she managed to sit upright. She swayed slightly and bit back a moan when she was forced to place her hands at her side and rest her weight on it to keep her balance. It felt like sharp needles were stabbing her through her left hand and by the time there was enough illumination in her cell she realized the back of that hand was swollen and bloody. It took her a moment to realize that was probably the result of her captors tearing the IV from her…

The footsteps sounded louder and suddenly three figures appeared at the edge of her cell, one of them carrying a torch, which he used to light another one mounted to the wall. More light flowed into the cell but having been in so much darkness before Sam had to use her good hand to shield her eyes from the bright light.

" _Shin tel?_ " The voice was gruff, impatient, and came from what appeared to be the eldest of the three who had an air of authority around him. When he turned to the other two and uttered an "Hm?" light glinted off a gold tattoo on his forehead and a silver skullcap.

The other two Jaffa had black serpentine tattoos on their forehead and it was the one without a torch who replied. " _Tel ran el_ ,  _Tchaȧs Bra'tac_."

" _Kel shak?_ "

Sam squinted against the light when the older one stepped aside to step closer, allowing more light to fall into the cell. It felt like he was appraising her – and she didn't think he was impressed – and Sam swallowed hard, slipping off the slab to stand on unsteady legs, trying to show she wasn't afraid of him. The lightheadedness returned with a vengeance, presumably because of her low blood volume and her change in position. "What do you want from me?" She said, embarrassed by how weak her voice sounded.

The trio ignored her and the torch-less guy replied to the older one and gestured in her direction. " _Ḥaqu_."

" _Kree tak_?" He said, sounding incredulous and throwing her another look. " _Ka't Tau'ri?_ "

Although unfamiliar with the alien language Sam thought the last bit sounded like an insult and frowned. Didn't  _Tau'ri_  mean Earth or human? "Hey, I'm standing right here," she said. "What the hell do you want from me?"

The one with the golden tattoo made a gesture towards the other one, who then stepped up and opened the cell door. Golden Tattoo entered her cell and gave her a disapproving look. " _Onak aric kree. Mak Tchaȧs Bra'tac. T_ -"

"Look-"

" _Rin nok_!" He said in a raised voice, glaring at her. " _Tau'ri hol! Kal vak, Klorel sa en Apophis._ _Tal shal mak._ "

Sam swallowed hard as he scrutinized her, wondering what he was waiting for. When he didn't say anything else and looked at her expectantly, she sighed and tried again. "Look, I have no idea what you're saying or what the hell I'm doing here. You had no right to take me here!"

"Hm," the Jaffa said, clearly annoyed with her. "Silence, human! I will speak first. You will listen, hm?" He didn't wait for an answer and continued. "I am Master Bra'tac and I do the bidding of Klorel, son of Apophis. Identify yourself."

She rattled off her name, rank and serial number automatically. "Captain Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force, three-six-six-three-four-nine." Pausing, she wondered why she'd given him her serial number because it wasn't like the Goa'uld would be aware of the Geneva Convention, use it to determine her eligibility for prisoner-of-war status or how it would prove her identity so they could treat her with the respect according her rank. She doubted they would treat anyone with respect or give them the treatment to which they were entitled… "Uh, from Earth," she added belatedly.

"You are among the warriors who defeated Ra and escaped from Apophis' palace guard on Chulak?"

"I wasn't there personally but yeah, that was us. No need to sound so disbelieving," Sam said, crossing her arms defensively in spite of the pain the movements elicited.

Bra'tac huffed and gave her another onceover. "A human woman?!"

She was tempted to tell him that there was no reason she couldn't handle whatever a man could just because her reproductive organs were on the inside instead of the outside, but figured that would probably make no sense to him so she settled for a curt, "yes."

"What were you doing on the planet you were found, hm?"

"That's none of your business." The confusion on his face in response was satisfying and it didn't escape her attention that he implied they were on another planet right now. She wondered if this planet was another one of Apophis' strongholds considering his earlier question also made it sound like they weren't on Chulak, the home planet of SG-1's Teal'c and where the two kidnapped Abydonians – Doctor Jackson's wife and brother-in-law – were taken before they were made hosts.

"Where are the other humans? You were alone when you were found."

Sam wasn't going to admit Colonel Grieves had tried to kill her or that her team had left her behind and stubbornly stuck out her chin. "Your men must have overlooked them. Not surprising considering how many of your Jaffa we killed."

Bra'tac didn't believe her, though. "They did not attempt to rescue you," he said, with a small smirk. "They left, hm? Because you are weak."

His last words were accompanied by a shove to her injured shoulder, making her cry out in pain as she tumbled backwards. "God damn it," she muttered, lying flat on her back on the floor and clutching her bandaged wound with her good hand. "Asshole."

"I will return later, Captain Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force and you will answer my questions." He turned around and exited the cell when torch-less guy opened the door for him. " _Jaffa, lok shak tal makka kree._ "

Sam managed to hold her head up long enough to see Bra'tac walk off without a second glance at her and while the guy with the torch followed, the Jaffa without one positioned himself against the opposite wall as sentry, probably per Bra'tac's orders. At least she would still have the light from the torch affixed to the wall, even if it meant having someone guard her. Ignoring the guard the same way he was ignoring her, she let her head rest on the hard floor and tried to relax her body as she stared up at the ceiling. Her shoulder, heck her entire arm, felt like it was on fire and she knew tensing – or even moving – would only make it worse. The gunshot wound in her right side ached but since the bullet had only grazed her rather than penetrated through layers of skin, muscle and possibly nerves it wasn't as painful and, compared to her shoulder, relatively easy to ignore.

But she was thirsty too and her head was pounding, either from her blood loss or landing face-first in the dirt when her CO shot her. There was a big bump on her forehead. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any water present in her cell and Sam doubted the guard or Bra'tac would give her something if she asked nicely. Perhaps closing her eyes would help against the pain, she thought.

* * *

 

**Stargate Command**   
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**   
**August 4, 1997**

By the time Jack had gone through his post-mission exam and showered for the second time today he was finally warm again and settled in a chair to the right of Hammond. After they had located the spot where Captain Carter must have treated her injuries on P3X-425 but was nowhere to be found, he had given the order to search the surrounding woods in the vain hope of finding her or at least a clue as to what might have happened. Unfortunately, SG-1 sans Lieutenant Kershaw had returned empty-handed – aside from the medical kit – and soaked to the bone from the storm raging on the planet.

Hammond had immediately understood the seriousness of the situation upon seeing only the three of them and the abandoned MALP exiting the wormhole in the 'gate room, but he had sent them straight to the infirmary anyway and told them to debrief in an hour. Doctor Fraiser and her staff had been nice enough and for a change hardly used any needles on Jack but even that hadn't lifted his spirits.

He felt awful about their inability to find Carter yet there really wasn't anything he could think of that they could have done better, except perhaps  _going_  there sooner. The fact that the Captain's body wasn't anywhere near the woods or the vicinity of the 'gate made him feel even worse because he'd been unable to ignore Daniel's argument to retrieve her body: what if the Jaffa had found her? In that case it didn't matter whether she was alive but injured or dead since Teal'c had confirmed Apophis – whose Jaffa had attacked SG-7 – indeed owned a sarcophagus which could be used to heal or even revive a person, although its use was mostly restricted to Apophis himself.

Aside from the Captain's knowledge about Earth and the Stargate Program, Jack was worried about what might be in store for her if Apophis wanted to torture her. He'd gone through his own fair share of torture in the not-so-distant past – and that was without the bad guys having the ability to bring him back from the dead.

Jack was brought out of his dark thoughts by the arrival of the CMO and Daniel, for whom they had all been waiting, and watched as they started handing out coffees before they took a seat at the table, joining him, Teal'c and Hammond. It had been after midnight already when they'd returned to the SGC and he knew his team – and Fraiser and the General – were tired after a long and stressful day, so hopefully the caffeine would chase away the exhaustion for now.

"Well," General Hammond broke the heavy silence on a weary tone, "I don't want to state the obvious but it is clear SG-1 hasn't managed to retrieve Captain Carter's body from P3X-425. Colonel O'Neill," he glanced at him, "has given me a brief update after returning from the infirmary but I would like to go over your findings in detail now."

"Yes, Sir," Jack said. "It was already pretty dark by the time we arrived on the planet but there were no signs of any lingering Jaffa – or natives for that matter – and we reached the location where Captain Carter went down within half an hour thanks to Teal'c's tracking skills."

The Jaffa bowed his head in acknowledgment and proceeded to summarize the tracks he had found in his usual succinct manner. "Imprints leading away from the boulder which SG-7 used to conceal themselves from the enemy forces led to Captain Carter's temporary shelter. It appeared as if she was injured on her left side as most of her weight rested on her right hand."

"At the spot itself were some traces of blood and we found a used IV bag and med kit," Daniel added in subdued tone. "Oh and Jack found some covered blood and, um, bullet casings at the boulder."

Jack grimaced when everyone's eyes fell on him. "No scorch marks, though," he said. Upon the General's confused expression he elaborated. "On the rock, Sir. At least, not on SG-7's side and that makes Grieves' version of events just a bit more unlikely." He went on to explain how they all knew that staff blast weapons tended to cauterize the wound, which minimized blood loss and considering the bloodstains they had found, it was unlikely the Captain-Doctor had actually been hit by a staff blast. Not to mention the shell casings and how Grieves claimed Carter had been dead before he and Adams even left the safety of their cover. All the evidence so far indicated that she had managed to crawl away to the woods to treat her injuries. The lack of a radio signal from her could easily be explained by either her fear of what  _had_  happened to her or she'd been out of range of the damaged MALP.

"I'm afraid there's more, General," Doctor Fraiser spoke up. "As you know, Doctor Jackson gave me the med kit and IV bag they found and upon your orders I have examined the contents in the hopes of determining how badly injured Captain Carter was." A tense silence fell upon the room on her words so after taking a deep breath she continued. "First of all, you're lucky you didn't search it yourself back on the planet, Colonel, because it seems as if the Captain just tossed everything she used right back into the kit, including bloody bandages, used needles and surgical instruments."

"Whoa, hold on," Jack said, " _surgical_  instruments?"

General Hammond also appeared to be shocked at this news, apparently hearing it for the first time as well. "Please explain, Doctor."

"As far as I can tell she lost a lot of blood, most likely over thirty percent of her total blood volume if we take the blood you found on the planet into account as well. Under normal circumstances that would lead to hemorrhagic shock and eventually death if untreated but it seems she managed to keep her wits about her long enough to increase her blood volume with the IV, although I would have felt much better if the bag had been empty rather than showing signs of being prematurely removed."

"But what about the surgical instruments you mentioned?" Daniel questioned anxiously. "Were you able to deduce her injuries from the materials she used?"

Doctor Fraiser sighed softly and pulled up a folder. "Normally, I would say no, Doctor Jackson. However, this med kit had been specifically prepared for the Captain's team and we went over the items in it when she came by the infirmary for her pre-mission exam, so I know it was fully stocked. Like I said, the pads I found indicate she lost a large amount of blood, there's evidence she used morphine and antibiotics and sutures are missing as well." There was an almost dramatic pause while the Doc organized some papers in her folder before shoving it over the briefing room table to the General. Fraiser didn't speak until Hammond had opened the file. "The most important find I did, though, were the bloody scalpel, retractor and forceps."

Jack grimaced upon hearing the surgical instruments Carter had used on herself. It only made him feel worse about not getting to her sooner and he tried to shake the image forming in his mind of a young captain performing surgery on herself in the middle of the woods on an alien planet! "You think she survived it, Doc?"

"Well, it depends on how good a job she did of stitching up her wound and under any other circumstances I would hesitate to speculate, but anyone who manages to surgically remove a bullet from their own body certainly doesn't seem like the type of person to give up easily."

"A bullet?!"

All eyes fell on Daniel after his little outburst but Hammond was quick to divert the attention away from the upset archeologist. "You retrieved a bullet from the equipment in the med kit, Doctor Fraiser?"

The CMO nodded an affirmative and gestured at the file he was now holding. "Yes, Sir, as well as a radio which was most likely damaged by the impact of said bullet. As you can tell from the picture it's a 9 millimeter, Sir. Captain Carter must have dropped them into the bag, either to clean up after herself or for evidence."

"Can we run ballistics on it?" Jack questioned, looking between the Doc and the General. "I mean, we have all of SG-7's weapons except for the ones belonging to Carter, right?" Now he was even more suspicious about the whole affair. How could Grieves have thought she was dead if she subsequently crawled away to perform surgery on herself? And how the hell did she manage to catch a bullet with her radio? Not to mention that they'd found her water bottle, med kit and now her radio too, yet there had been no signs of her pack or weapons? The heavy pack would be the first to get tossed if she'd been shot in the shoulder but it was nowhere to be found. Her weapons were a different matter because he wasn't entirely sure whether the Captain would keep them on her or if she would choose to lose them – or at least her MP5 in favor of her sidearm – because she wasn't able to fire them anyway.

"I don't know, Colonel. That's not my area of expertise," Fraiser said, drawing him back into the conversation.

Hammond nodded in agreement and placed the papers back into the folder. "I think that's something for the OSI to investigate. Doctor, do you think it's possible Captain Carter went somewhere on her own volition after removing the bullet?"

"No, absolutely not. Losing so much blood would have left her very weak and I'm quite surprised she even managed to remove the bullet on her own, but there is no doubt in my mind that she passed out once the adrenaline left her system and the meds stopped working."

"Great," Jack said angrily, "so she was a sitting duck for those Jaffa!"

Before Teal'c could even comment on the expression, Daniel jumped in. "The underbrush near the shelter was also disturbed by several people, according to Teal'c."

"Indeed. I believe the Jaffa found and captured Captain Carter, General Hammond," Teal'c said. "I do not know whether she was merely unconscious or already dead at that time but I imagine Apophis would wish to interrogate her – a Tau'ri prize – regardless."

"Then there is still a chance that Captain Carter is alive," Hammond mused aloud.

"And in the clutches of a snakehead," Jack added in disgust.

Daniel wrapped his arms around his middle and sat hunched over the table a bit. "Who knows what they'll do to her."

Jack wanted to ask Teal'c what the Captain's chances were and how long Apophis would torture her for information before he gave up or she would crack. He held back until Daniel and Fraiser had left though, because they – a naïve archeologist who'd already lost his wife to Apophis and now his friend, and another female officer who was dedicated to saving lives – didn't need to hear a summary of all the ways that snakehead had to make someone talk. If he even wanted Carter for her knowledge… that wasn't something Jack wanted to think about but he had to be realistic. "First things first," he said, looking at his CO, "I'd say it's time to bring in Lieutenant Colonel Grieves and question his men again."

"I will have to contact my superiors with this news first, son," Hammond said. "There is a good possibility they will insist on letting the OSI investigate whether this was a friendly fire incident or some kind of conspiracy but, more importantly, we need to bring in someone to go over the 'gate's security protocols because we can't risk Apophis obtaining information on how to circumvent our iris from Captain Carter."

"General Hammond, I do not believe there was anything remotely friendly about the incident which injured Captain Carter," Teal'c said with a raised brow.

Fortunately, that seemed to get Daniel's attention and Jack could hear him explain the expression to their Jaffa friend. However, it was Hammond's warning that they had to keep all this to themselves and not even tell Lieutenant Kershaw anything aside from the fact that they'd been unable to retrieve Captain Carter's body that got Jack's attention. Upon dismissing them the General beckoned him into his office for another base commander-to-2IC chat.

"Sir?"

"Like I said, Colonel," General Hammond started as he sat down in his chair, "I want to keep this quiet. Your team will submit their reports directly to me - hard copies only for now. I'm going to have to discuss your findings with my superiors and the OSI when their agents arrive but for now no one says a thing. The situation needs to be investigated properly before we let anyone know what you found on P3X-425."

Nodding in understanding Jack asked him the question that was burning on his tongue. "And Grieves?"

"Him too."

"I would also like to suggest sending another team to P3X-425 to talk to the natives, Sir. Clearly, Grieves was lying about certain aspects in his report if not everything, and perhaps the natives can shed some light on the situation. For one, it would be good to know if they actually still have the doohickey in their possession, if Carter took it and it's now in the hands of Apophis or…"

Hammond raised his brows as he leaned back in his seat. "Or… what, Colonel?"

He shrugged, unsure how much of his suspicions to share at this time. Obviously he had no proof aside from what they'd discovered on P3X-425 but he just had a bad feeling about Grieves. "Or maybe Carter never took the device in the first place, Sir."

"Why would Lieutenant Colonel Grieves say she did, son?"

"Why say she died of a staff blast?" Jack figured the General was playing devil's advocate but still felt he should counter the argument. He shrugged and continued in a deferential tone, "I'm sure he has a really good reason for it, Sir. If Daniel or one of the teams who did the original mission to this place could talk to the natives we might be able to answer the question for ourselves."

"Very well," Hammond said curtly. "We'll have to wait until the storm has passed and the MALP is fixed to make contact and then we can determine whether such a mission is viable, Colonel."

For a moment, Jack hesitated about whether to say more or leave it at that, but in the end he figured they'd know more about the device's location soon enough simply from getting a glimpse of the planet since the doohickey was supposed to protect the natives against the storm and erupting volcano. Still, there was one other thing that weighed heavily on him… "Sir, what about Captain Carter?"

His CO sighed and ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking weary. "We have no idea where she might be, son. Hell, we don't even know for sure if the Jaffa took her and whether she's still alive. I'll see what my superiors and the OSI have to say about it but I'm going to have to change her status to MIA at the very least. I'd much rather order a search party but we have no idea where to begin looking or whether she went against orders and nearly got herself and her team killed. Until the investigation has been completed it's hard to say what our course of action will be but if we don't come across any indications that she's alive we'll have to presume she's dead." He held up a hand to forestall Jack's objection and continued. "Trust me, I'm not looking forward to informing Jake that his only daughter might be a traitor and that he'll have to bury an empty casket without military honors."

"Jake?"

"Major General Jacob Carter," Hammond said. "We met during the Cold War and sometimes run into each other at certain events where we'll catch up. The last time we spoke he and the Captain weren't on the best of terms so hopefully I can postpone breaking the news to him until we know more."


	13. Captivity

**Goa'uld Compound**   
**Location Unknown**

Sam was cold. Due to the mission objective involving a lot of walking she had only worn a standard issue black tank top under her jacket and it didn't provide much warmth now. It had been necessary to take the jacket off to tend to her wounds on P3X-425 and she hadn't put it on again afterwards. When the Jaffa abducted her they must have also taken her jacket with them because she could see it lying outside of her cell, near the guard. She briefly wondered if they'd left it in her line of sight on purpose to taunt her with it or if these Jaffa were immune of the cold and simply presumed the same went for her. Or perhaps she was simply cold because of her injuries and blood loss? The floor was cold as well but she hadn't managed to get up to the stone slab yet since… well, since she fell asleep – or passed out, more likely – on it right after Bra'tac's visit, but she couldn't tell if that had only been hours ago or yesterday already. It was dirty too, with bloodstains and other unidentified smudges on the stone and walls from previous 'guests' no doubt, but also her own vomit.

When she woke up a little while ago she had felt sick and in pain, and she'd barely managed to roll over before throwing up and must have passed out afterwards again. It was disgusting, foul-smelling and it probably wasn't smart of her to lie right next to it considering her injuries were prone to infection but just the  _idea_  of getting up and climbing onto the – undoubtedly equally cold – stone slab left her exhausted. In the back of her mind, Sam knew this was a bad sign, especially in light of how much time she'd slept or been unconscious already but her head hurt and thinking made it worse.

Shivering and hungry she brought up her hands, attempting to ignore the pain flaring up in her left shoulder, and rubbed them over her bare arms. The skin was cool but also slightly clammy and she could only hope it wasn't a sign of fever from an infection. Depending on when and how frequently the Jaffa decided to feed her – if at all – she wasn't sure if her body was strong enough to fight off an infection, particularly when there was no medicine available. Hopefully, the antibiotics she'd injected into her IV bag had made it into her system and would help her immune system…

It was hard to believe that only three days ago she had been enjoying a nice dinner with her colleagues, celebrating the successful completion of yet another top-secret project at the Pentagon. Or had it been four or five days, already? She couldn't tell anymore. All Sam knew was that it seemed surreal now, mostly because it was highly unlikely she would ever see any of them again. Or Jack for that matter… they'd met that evening and spent the night together right before she had been called to the Pentagon – during her leave – by Colonel Kennedy and sent off to Colorado Springs to finally join the SGC on a long awaited reassignment.

She snorted to herself, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet cell, and thought how ironic it was that she'd been afraid of facing Jack again upon discovering he was Colonel Jack O'Neill, 2IC of the SGC. Well, at least that problem was taken care of because even in her current state of mind Sam knew it was very unlikely she would leave this Goa'uld prison alive.

In a way, she wished Bra'tac would just get it over with already. Not that she was looking forward to being tortured – because there was no doubt in her mind that the Goa'uld or their Jaffa would resort to such techniques to obtain the information they wanted – but her shoulder hurt and she was tired. So tired. Unless they gave her food and water soon she wouldn't last more than a few days, anyway. She would die of thirst or starvation, unless her wounds got infected and sepsis claimed her first.

For a moment, she wondered what they would do with her body if she died here. Would they just leave her in the cell to decompose until there was nothing but bones left? Or perhaps they had mass graves where they dumped all their dead bodies, which often happened on Earth during war. Maybe they would just jettison her out of an airlock, she thought with a hint of amusement. Of course, there were no indications she was even on a spaceship right now, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible. That way she would finally fulfill her dream of becoming an astronaut – her father would be proud!

Sam chuckled softly at her own morbid thoughts but her throat was raw and her voice sounded strange, unfamiliar even to herself. The shaking of her frame hurt as well and she clutched her shoulder with her good hand while trying to ignore the stabs of pain in her right side, the pain quickly sobering her up. Blinking against the tears welling up in her eyes she tried to breathe through the pain until it became bearable again. After a few minutes, it had turned into a dull throbbing and she could finally relax her body.

Her mind, however, was still stuck on the dying part and she couldn't help but wonder what was going on back home. Had she been declared killed in action? Would they have given her a memorial service like the one held for Doctor Jackson last month when his team had been brainwashed to believe he was dead? It had sounded nice from the description in his email. Or maybe they thought she didn't deserve one – or a military funeral – if they believed the lies Grieves had told her.  _He_  was the traitor who had stolen the only protection those poor natives on P3X-425 had and he should have been the one lying in this Goa'uld cell!

Anger rose up in her at the injustice of it all. Her dad would be so disappointed to learn his daughter was a traitor and even though they barely kept in touch, she knew he would take her supposed actions as a personal offense.  _You're destined for great things, Sam_. The words he'd spoken to her throughout her entire childhood came back to her and she was reminded of their last conversation. He'd been angry with her that she'd given up on her dreams of joining NASA after he'd pulled strings to get her into their program.  _They know what you're capable of offering the Space Program, Samantha, they want you!_

Little did he know she had been working on Project Giza at the time and had been hoping to be sent through the Stargate herself, which definitely beat going to space in a shuttle! Well, that was what she thought prior to this mission getting FUBAR and her own commanding officer shooting her and leaving her behind to die!

The sudden onset of anger gave Sam the energy and motivation to move, so she rolled to her right side in spite of her injury and eventually managed to push herself up. Her breathing was labored from the effort it took to just sit up but she also felt a deep sense of satisfaction at her accomplishment. Now, she just needed a moment to get her racing pulse under control and allow her blood pressure to adjust to her new position or she would most likely keel over…

Once her vision stopped swimming she cast a glance at her bandaged shoulder and was pleased to see no blood had seeped through yet, despite the excruciating pain she felt at times. Her hand was a different matter, though. The back of it was still swollen and as she scrubbed the dried blood from it with some saliva and her other hand, she realized the skin was also an angry red. Only when she angled it towards the light did she realized there was still something embedded into her skin! Compared to her gunshot wounds the pain of probing the area was minimal but Sam still bit her lip as she used her short nails to check the open wound. After what felt like forever she finally managed to retrieve the foreign object of only half an inch and let out a sigh of relief. It was part of the IV kit's needle, which must have snapped in two when the Jaffa tore out her IV!

Just as she was trying to decide what to do with the broken end of the needle she heard an odd swishing sound followed by heavy footsteps. It must have been a door, she thought, as the footsteps came closer. Her gaze fell on the Jaffa standing guard opposite her cell and saw him looking off to his left, where someone was coming from.

" _Tek'ma'te, Tchaȧs Bra'tac_ ," the Jaffa said, lowering his head in al almost regal nod.

The older Jaffa came into view with another on his tail holding a torch and briefly glanced in her direction before focusing on the guard. " _Shal kek, Jaffa_."

Sam watched as the guard nodded again and left his post, while Bra'tac gestured for his companion to open the cell door. Under normal circumstances she would have taken the chance to escape, perhaps by charging at him and hopefully catching him by surprise – he certainly didn't seem to think highly of humans, let alone  _women_. But considering she was still out of breath from sitting up, Sam figured it would simply be a waste of energy and would only aggravate her injuries. "I don't suppose you came to spring me?" She asked dryly, her voice hoarse from disuse.

"Silence, human," he replied, as his accomplice closed the door behind him. "Your words mean nothing to me."

"I guess it would be too much to expect you have brought me water and something to eat?"

Bra'tac didn't answer her and instead looked her over, appearing mildly amused by her attitude. "You have rested."

Unsure whether it was a question or merely an observation Sam gave him a one-shouldered shrug. "It's not like there's anything else for me to do around here."

"You will answer my questions." When she didn't answer he raised his brows and took a threatening step forward. "Do you understand, woman?"

"I understand," she said slowly, "but what if I don't want to answer them?"

Huffing, Bra'tac came closer, looming over her seated form. "Then you will suffer."

Apparently, there wasn't a Jaffa version of the good cop/bad cop routine, she thought. Unless, of course, Bra'tac would take on both roles himself. "I'm not going to tell you anything," she said defiantly. It wasn't like she wasn't suffering already and unless he gave her some food and water she would die soon, anyway. Sam knew that under ideal conditions the human body could go without water for three to five days and even longer if the person was very healthy, but it was cold here and she had already lost a lot of blood, which meant she would go into shock sooner rather than later. Her mouth was extremely dry, her heart rate too high, she hadn't felt the urge to use the bathroom since getting shot, was lethargic and only hours ago she had started vomiting; those were all signs she was severely dehydrated, although some of them might be due to the pain of her injuries and a severe concussion.

"You will tell me what I want to know," he said, as if she hadn't spoken. "If you do not cooperate we will be forced to resort to more unpleasant methods."

"Torture."

Bra'tac's eyebrows rose up in surprise but he acknowledged her statement with a curt nod. "Where are the other Tau'ri who accompanied you?"

Sam sighed, her body lightly swaying with the movement. "How should I know? I've been here in this dump since your men grabbed me. Maybe you should ask your Jaffa where they are and why they were unable to locate them."

"Silence woman! Did I ask for your opinion, hm?" He said in a raised tone before hitting her in the face. "Where are the other Tau'ri?"

The force of his backhanded slap made her lose her balance and she couldn't hold back a soft yelp as she stretched her arms to catch herself, her weight landing on her hands. The sudden onslaught of pain emanating from her shoulder made her feel sick and before she knew it, she was throwing up again. It was mostly bile and some other fluids, making her feel even worse – she couldn't recall the last time she'd actually eaten something. Her cheek hurt from the impact of his hand Sam idly wondered if the force would do more than simply bruise her skin as she worked her jaw. "Bastard," she muttered, spitting out some more saliva mixed with blood.

"This pales in comparison to what Apophis will do to you, woman! Now, tell me where the other Tau'ri are!"

Glaring up at him she used the back of her hand to wipe her mouth, wincing at her cracked lip. "Well, if you don't have them then they're probably home where you can't get them! I'm sure you'll see them soon enough when they come back with reinforcements to attack this place," she said, trying to sound as confident as possible. In reality, she knew there was no chance in hell they would find her –  _if_  they would send someone to P3X-425 for her body – when even  _she_  didn't know where she was, but she would never share that with him.

"Lies!" Bra'tac huffed and yanked on her hair, forcing her to look up at him. "Why would they return for you, hm? They left you because you are weak and pathetic," he sneered. "Now you are even incapable of standing on your own feet!"

"Screw you!" Sam yelled before spitting in his face.

Disgusted, he pushed her away roughly and wiped her saliva off his face. " _Gonach!_ " After one more pointed look at her he headed towards the door, only turning back around when he reached it. "Apophis and Klorel will not be so forgiving when you are brought before them, woman."

"Maybe," she said listlessly, fighting to hold back tears at the pain racking her body as she lay curled up on the floor. "Might as well kill me… now… because I won't t-tell them any… anything when they get here."

"We shall see," Bra'tac said ominously. "Once the harvesting is complete we shall take you to them and make you kneel before your Gods. You would be wise to be more forthcoming when I return unless you wish to witness their wrath."

Sam felt tears slip down her cheeks but kept quiet, determined not to make a peep until he was gone. It took all of her effort to lift her head and watch him as he slipped out of the cell and closed the door behind him. She was tempted to ask him for her jacket which was now lying at his feet because she was so cold, but refused to show him any more signs of weakness. Some water or food would be nice too, although she was pretty sure swallowing anything more than water was going to be difficult with how raw her throat felt. Hell, she probably wouldn't be able to keep anything down with the state she was in, and she was not looking forward to more retching.

" _Jaffa, lok shak tal Moac kree,_ " Bra'tac said to the Jaffa who had come in with him. When the younger man opened his mouth to protest the First Prime was quick to cut him. " _Kree shak nel!_ "

Although unable to understand the language aside from a few words she recalled from her communications with Doctor Jackson, Sam realized the body language of Jaffa was similar to that of humans and it was pretty clear from the abashed expression and submissive stance that Bra'tac had berated his underling. Relief flooded her system when, without another backwards glance, the older Jaffa left and his footsteps were soon fading. A soft moan escaped her lips when she rolled onto her back, trying to relax her frame in the hopes of easing the pain that seemed to be coming from everywhere except maybe her legs.

She knew it would be better for her to get up and climb back onto the stone slab for some rest but her limbs refused to cooperate and the confrontation with Bra'tac had left her exhausted and in pain. Sighing, she slowly started rubbing her arms again to warm herself up, mindful of her injured shoulder. After a few minutes, her eyelids were becoming heavy and she figured it would be okay to rest a bit more. Like she'd told Bra'tac, there wasn't much else for her to do around here and at least when she was asleep she wasn't so aware of the pain.

It couldn't have been more than a few hours later when Sam awoke from the telltale metal clanking of armor and boots scraping the floor. Her heart started racing and she hated how her own body betrayed her: she was  _not_  afraid of what Bra'tac might do to her. It became her mantra as the footsteps came closer and she broke out in a cold sweat, her fists clenching together in anticipation. Once the Jaffa whose footsteps she'd heard approaching came into view she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding: it wasn't Bra'tac but one who looked to be about her own age and paid her no attention at all.

" _Chel hol, Moac,_ " the guard said with a slight nod.

It sounded like a greeting and the young Jaffa reciprocated in kind, muttering something under his breath and inclining his head in respect. " _Mak tal lok shak mokka kree_."

" _Chel nak_."

At first Sam thought it was Goa'uld for 'goodbye' or something but the younger Jaffa smiled briefly in response before the other Jaffa left, leaving just the two of them. Maybe it had been a joke, either genuinely funny or perhaps something insulting or crude about her as a human or a woman – Bra'tac seemed to dislike both things about her. She felt her hackles rising at the idea and blurted out her thoughts. "What did he say?"

The Jaffa who had now taken up the guarding position ignored her question but frowned in her direction. It was difficult to tell whether it was in disapproval because she – a female Tau'ri prisoner – dared to say speak to him or if he was simply surprised. Still, he didn't say anything and just stared ahead, avoiding her gaze.

Annoyed and strengthened by her emotions she pushed herself up into a sitting position, swallowing a sob at the biting pain the change in position caused. "Look, I know you can speak English," she said, her voice weak and lacking its usual confidence. Clearing her dry throat awkwardly, she tried again. "I mean, that you can understand me." Perhaps they didn't call it English. "I already spoke with," she paused, trying to recall how Bra'tac had introduced himself, "Master Bra'tac earlier."

"Silence, human," he said, briefly glancing her way.

Sam sighed, wondering if all Jaffa had been taught to address their prisoners that way or if his vocabulary was simply lacking. "I will," she hurried to say. "When I'm done talking."

"You will not speak."

Mustering all of her energy and attempting to be as clear as possible in spite of her dry mouth, she spoke again. "I'll be quick, promise. I don't want to know your life story and I doubt you'd be interested in mine…" A coughing fit racked her frame and it took her a moment to overcome it, her side hurting like hell from the strained movements. "I just want some food and water," she said, pleading with him through her eyes. "And my jacket. I'm so c-cold."

The Jaffa glanced down at the floor where her jacket lay and back to her. "Master Bra'tac-"

"He s-said Apophis-s wanted to see m-me," Sam said as she tried to ignore the shivers her body's low temperature had elicited. Giving him a wan smile, she shrugged using only her right shoulder. "I'm his t-Tau'ri prisoner."

"Apophis is not here," he said, sounding unsure.

"Yeah, b-Bra'tac s-said he would t-take me to him… once the harvesting was done," she added belatedly. "Without f-food, water and my j-jacket I won't last that long."

His gaze went from her head to her toes and back up, halting briefly at where the bandage on her shoulder was peeking out from the cut neckline of her top. For a moment she feared he'd seen through her bluff but then he nodded and bent down to pick up her jacket. " _Nemet kree,_ " he said as he opened the door of her cell.

Sam frowned, fighting hard to stay upright and keep her eyes open. "What?"

"Stay back," he said, as if he was repeating himself.

Before she could say anything or even  _think_  of doing something, he threw her jacket square in her lap. Despite the situation she'd found herself in Sam smiled gratefully at him, ignoring the way the skin pulled tightly on the right side of her face – where Bra'tac had hit her – and eagerly picked up the clothing item. With the way her shoulder was hurting she didn't want to even  _try_  slipping her arms into the sleeves and instead draped the oversized jacket over her torso like a blanket. "Thank you." He frowned at her as if not understanding so she tried again. "I'm grateful for the gesture."

He nodded curtly and closed the cell door again. "I will return briefly. Do not move."

She instinctively understood his unspoken warning and didn't move a muscle until he returned with an empty bowl and a jug with water. At first, he appeared unsure as how to hand it to her but after considering it for a moment he placed the bowl upside down over the jug, opened the cell door to slip inside and closed it behind him all the while holding a staff weapon with his free hand. She watched him warily as he came closer towards her; the weapon trained on her and leaned down to set the jug on the floor about three feet away from her. "Thank you."

"There was no food, only water."

"Thanks for trying," she said, giving him a wan smile. He didn't clarify whether he'd asked for the items and been refused or if he'd simply taken them for fear of someone finding out he'd been helping her, and Sam didn't ask. Instead, she leveled her gaze on him as he cautiously shoved the jug closer towards her and waited until he looked her straight in the eye to ask her question. "What's your name?"

He broke the eye contact and stood up hastily, the jug still a foot away from her. Without a second glance in her direction, he moved towards the door, unlocked it and went back into the corridor. The key made a scraping noise as he locked the door again but before he took up his position at the wall he paused, his voice soft as he spoke. "Moac. I am called Moac."

The jug was calling to her but she forced herself to look at him as he became almost one with the wall and ignored her presence again. "I'm Sam." When there was no outward sign of acknowledgment, Sam turned her attention to the jug and reached for it as best she could, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. She had actually started salivating in anticipation and had to remind herself not to drink too much at once when her hand finally closed around the jug. Removing the bowl took more energy than she was willing to admit and she could feel herself beginning to sweat with exertion again, but nothing could deter her from getting a sip of water… not even the weight of the heavy jug as she lifted it with shaking arms to pour some water in the bowl.

Tears sprang in her eyes as the bowl filled with the clear liquid and some of it splashed onto the cold floor when she had trouble lifting the jug again. She wasn't sure if she was crying over the fact that she finally had access to water or because she'd spilt some of it, but Sam didn't really care. Too tired to keep herself upright she leaned down, resting her weight on her shaking arms to lap the water from the bowl.


	14. Travel

**Washington, DC**   
**August 13, 1997**

It had been over a week since Jack had taken Daniel and Teal'c with him to P3X-425 to retrieve Captain Carter's dead body. The General had pulled SG-1 from the mission roster after their hectic schedule and the fallout of what happened to Carter. Daniel was struggling with it because the situation brought back memories of what happened to Sha're and Skaara. Jack had tried to help him but Daniel had wanted some time to himself, so Jack had kept busy with keeping an eye on his team, doing his meetings with Hammond and regular duties as the base's 2IC.

He'd also had the dubious honor of welcoming the OSI agents and keeping them as informed as possible with their limited clearance. He had a feeling the investigation wasn't going so well, although he had been debriefed about his findings on P3X-425 and suspicions of Grieves by the two special agents twice and he knew they had gone over some of his – redacted – mission reports as well.

Anyway, by the end of the week he'd been itching to go through the 'gate if only to shoot a bunch of angry Jaffa. Instead, Hammond had sent him to Washington DC again to brief their superiors on the Carter case in person and while he'd been there he'd voiced his suspicions about Grieves as well – it just didn't sit right with him that the guy was still commanding SG-7, even if they were on downtime since the 'incident'.

Unfortunately, the meetings hadn't had the desired effect and the whole trip to DC had only been made worse by Jack's irrational hopes of running into Sam again. In spite of the craziness going on at the SGC he hadn't forgotten about the woman he'd spent the night with during his previous visit to the Pentagon. Of course, without a last name, phone number or address it was pretty much impossible to track someone down, although he  _had_  gone back to the bar where they'd met in the vain hope of running into her again. Apparently, it wasn't meant to be and he wished he'd asked her more personal questions before they said their goodbyes.

The only good thing that had come from his most recent visit to the capital was meeting up with Doctor Catherine Langford. "It's good to see you again, Catherine."

"You too, Jack," she said, giving him a warm hug. "I just wish it was under different circumstances."

He nodded in reply and steered her into the direction of the plane waiting for them. For once, it wasn't a military hop or a commercial flight. No, a private plane had been arranged so he could brief Catherine on their way to Colorado Springs. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you anytime soon, considering your retirement."

"Oh, how could I have possibly stayed retired after learning about the SGC?" She said, smiling at him as they walked out on the tarmac. "No, I've been consulting for the Xenophysics department at the Pentagon since our little trip to Heliopolis."

Jack raised a brow in surprise; he'd expected her to embrace life with her long lost fiancé after they rescued him from that planet. "What about Ernest?"

"He was stranded on a different planet for fifty years, with no one but his own hallucinations to keep him company," she said. "I still cannot believe he's been returned to me after all this time but, bless his heart, he has trouble adjusting to life here."

"It has only been, what, a month or so?"

Catherine nodded, holding his arm tightly as the wind picked up. "Yes. Doctor MacKenzie from the SGC has been trying to help him, but I'm afraid we're all out of our depth here. Anyway, my Ernest is making progress but he requires some alone time every now and then."

"And that's where your part-time job comes in?"

"Yes. It keeps me busy and my mind young," she chuckled softly.

Jack smiled at her spirit when they reached the plane and saluted the airman waiting for them. He briefly wondered if she'd known the young Captain-Doctor Carter as he watched her climb the stairs for the plane. How many people would be working at the Xenophysics department?

"Sir?"

Startled from his thoughts, he nodded to the airman. "It's just me and Doctor Langford, airman. Let's make sure we get her to Colorado safely."

"Yes, Sir."

When he joined Catherine inside she was already sitting near the window, staring outside. Gone was her good mood. "What can you tell me about the fate of Captain Carter, Jack?"

He grimaced, sitting down opposite her. "You knew her?"

"She was on my team until she got transferred to the SGC and I'd like to think I knew her quite well. Such an inspiring and driven young woman," Catherine said, nostalgia coloring her tone. "You'd have liked her."

"You know I'm not a big fan of scientists, aside from you and Daniel," he said. "From what he and Hammond have told me, she was very accomplished in her field."

Catherine scoffed at that and fastened her seatbelt. "She worked at the Giza Project for two years and created the dialing computer. Calling her a pioneer in the field of Xenyphysics wouldn't be an exaggeration. She had an affinity with the stargate and alien technology that I have yet to see in anyone else."

"Not even yourself?"

"Oh, I've had my moments," she said, chuckling, "but she was the foremost expert on the stargate."

Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat as they started taxiing. "We don't know what happened, exactly. There's a good chance a Goa'uld, Apophis, captured her on her first mission and that's why we need your expertise."

Catherine nodded in understanding. "You're afraid this Apophis will learn how to disable the iris she created."

"Is it true she wrote the protocols for the dialing computer?"

"Yes, she was quite talented."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't need to tell you what that means."

"General Hammond told me he needs me to rewrite everything but I don't know if I can, Jack."

"You do what you can, Catherine."

* * *

**Stargate Command**   
**Colorado Springs, Colorado**

The flight to Colorado hadn't taken long, mostly because Catherine filled him in about her work at the Pentagon and how Ernest was adjusting to life back home. As soon as they arrived at the SGC Catherine was greeted warmly by the personnel who'd met her before and then she went straight to work in the control room, working side by side with the technicians.

Jack knew it did Daniel in particular a lot of good to see Catherine again and to be able to talk to her about their mutual friend. He just wished he could give Catherine and Daniel some answers about what had happened to Carter, but from the looks of it, it would take at least a few more weeks for the OSI to complete their investigation and even then they had no idea where the Captain might be.

The lack of a memorial service also added to the ambiguous feelings, both about her possible treason and status. Last he'd heard, Hammond's superiors were inclined to declare Captain Carter killed in action, if only to close the investigation and be able to give her next-of-kin a straight answer. With their deep space radar telemetry cover it was already going to be difficult to explain her death – training exercise seemed to be the preferred cause – let alone that she'd somehow gone missing during a mission only to eventually end up dead. That was simply too tricky, especially when one of the relatives was an Air Force major general himself.

At the moment, all they could do was to keep their eyes and ears open off-world in the hopes of hearing something about a captured  _Tau'ri_  woman, but for all they knew Captain Carter was already dead. It was a bitter pill to swallow, especially considering her contributions to the Program even if most of them were behind the scenes. If it hadn't been for Carter there wouldn't have been a 'gate to travel through, or at least not a dialing computer to operate it, according to Catherine. The older woman had openly admitted that she herself or other scientists she knew had been incapable of creating the hundreds of safety protocols and feedback signals needed in the program. However, working closely with the Captain-Doctor over the past few years she had become familiar with the younger woman's thinking patterns and coding, and after studying the dialing computer in person she was confident she would be able to make the needed changes to prevent anyone from accessing it or the iris' control system through an open wormhole. It would just take time to upgrade everything.

Fortunately, the brass had decided that normal operations would continue while Catherine did her thing and thus SG-1 had gone to P3X-7763 – or Tollan as they'd later learned – four days ago, once they had gone back onto the mission rotation. Although, in retrospect, Jack would have preferred another team had dealt with the arrogant and supposedly highly superior Tollans who had basically ruined their own planet and the last batch of them had been dying in the vicinity of their Stargate while volcanoes were erupting all around them. The ten survivors were brought back to Earth but the aliens had been less than cooperative to say the least, although Narim had been nice enough, probably because he and Daniel had gotten along great.

It had been Catherine though, who had somehow managed to charm the highly suspicious and brusque Omoc, the leader of the refugees, and eventually the man had agreed to use their highly advanced technology to contact the Nox, requesting their help to be relocated to their new home planet. Afterwards, SG-1 and Catherine had debriefed General Hammond on the details of their plan and its execution, but now Jack's mind was already on his team's upcoming mission to P4A-771, a planet in a solar system that was part of Apophis' domain. He had briefly checked out the data the MALP had collected after they'd sent it through two hours ago, but there hadn't been any sign of Jaffa or recent activity near the 'gate. Although hesitant to send them into possible enemy territory, Hammond had approved the mission provided that the MALP's readings wouldn't change drastically over the next few days.

Daniel had seemed pretty excited about the new mission but Jack suspected it was because the planet was in the domain of Apophis and the archaeologist was probably hoping they would learn something about Sha're, Skaara or perhaps even his missing Captain-Doctor friend. He knew the latter was true for himself and while he hadn't given up on finding the abducted Abydonians, he was afraid it would prove difficult to find and retrieve them if they'd both been snaked by Apophis, especially in light of what happened to Kawalsky when he got a snake in his head and the destruction of Thor's Hammer. Hopefully, they would be able to contact Thor's race once they got Sha're and Skaara back, but there were no guarantees.

However, the Captain-Doctor was probably still being held in a cell for interrogation according to Teal'c and while she might be undergoing some horrible things, they probably paled in comparison to getting snaked. They had to hurry though because it was unlikely Apophis would keep her alive once she had served her purpose or wouldn't give him anything. It had been ten days since she was captured and the Goa'uld weren't exactly a patient race, but they were known for their ruthlessness: Carter probably didn't have much longer.

* * *

**Goa'uld Compound**   
**Location Unknown**

It felt like it had been months since Sam had stepped through the Stargate for the first time but realistically she knew it couldn't have been that long. Perhaps a week or two at most, she guessed. Her sense of time was completely screwed up due to being kept in the darkened cell all this time and without any exposure to natural light her circadian rhythm was way off, too.

Bra'tac's irregular visits didn't help either, because he never seemed to show up at set times and it felt like sometimes he'd drop by several times in one day while he only came once on other days. The Jaffa guarding her cell didn't seem to have a normal schedule either but it was possible that it was simply down to her perception and being unable to tell how much time passed between changing of the guards.

Moac, the Jaffa she had sort of befriended, wasn't very talkative let alone forthcoming with answers to her questions but he  _had_ continued supplying her with water and food at least once a day in the morning – or so she assumed, it was difficult to tell. On one hand, Sam was surprised that Bra'tac hadn't commented on the jug and bowl his underling had given her when he hadn't been around because she knew the First Prime had seen it and could have sworn he'd uttered a characteristic 'hm' upon discovery. On the other hand, it made sense for him to approve because without water she would have been dead already – or perhaps it was by Bra'tac's order and Moac was playing the part of the good cop, trying to gain her trust while making it appear as if he went behind his commander's back. Or maybe she was becoming paranoid…

The only evidence she really had to prove to herself that no more than two weeks could have passed since her capture was her own body; the injury left from a bullet grazing her side appeared to be healing well, although the wound in her shoulder had gotten worse. Sam was concerned it would get infected if it wasn't already – she was too afraid to remove the bandage and take a look at the stitched up skin. Still, if her guesstimate was correct then she would have to remove the stitches soon and clean the injury properly.

Thanks to the water and food Moac provided she had gotten slightly stronger or at least less dehydrated and light-headed, which had allowed her to move around a bit more and a few days ago she had finally gotten back onto the stone slab on her own strength. All the movement and perspiration had loosened the tape on her abdomen though, and it had more or less forced Sam to remove the bandage covering her side. Fortunately, the skin looked good considering the circumstances and she had started cleaning the graze too whenever she washed herself as best she could with the small amount of water she could spare every other jug.

Still, Sam was concerned: one bowl of goop wasn't enough to keep her stomach from rumbling and the jug of water a day was barely enough to keep her hydrated. She knew her ribs and hips were protruding more now than before she'd left Earth and her normally taut abdomen was starting to become concaved. Strangely enough, Bra'tac hadn't resorted to actual torture unlike what she had expected the moment she regained consciousness in the cell so at least she didn't have to endure additional injuries aside from the occasional slap or backhand.

Speak of the devil, she thought as she looked up and saw Bra'tac coming up the corridor and having a hushed exchange with her guard. Moac was with Bra'tac, which was a bit unusual, since the younger Jaffa was usually the one taking over guarding duty from whoever Bra'tac left in charge after one of his visits. The current guard was dismissed with a curt " _shal kek_ " and it was only when he was out of sight and his footsteps fading that Bra'tac opened the cell door. With a very human-like gesture he indicated for the younger Jaffa to precede him and that's when she realized he was carrying something.

"You brought me something?" Sam had meant it as a statement but it came out more of a question in her croaking voice.

Bra'tac closed the cell door behind him and waited for Moac to place the tray next to her on the stone slab before he spoke. "Food and water."

Suppressing the urge to reach for the bowl with some unappetizing-looking goop in it to gobble it down, she eyed the two Jaffa wondering what the catch was; Moac had already brought her a jug of water a few hours earlier and this was the first time she'd gotten food today. "Why?"

"First you plead for food and water and now that you are given it you are questioning it? You should be more grateful, human," Bra'tac replied, huffing.

"Well, forgive me for being suspicious," Sam said.

Narrowing his eyes at her Bra'tac shook his head in disapproval. "You ask too many questions. Eat."

Moac glanced between the two of them before he spoke up. "The  _alkesh_ has arrived to take us to Apophis and Klorel."

" _Rin nok!_ " Bra'tac glared at his protégé until the younger Jaffa lowered his head and then he turned to her. "Apophis wishes to behold his  _Tau'ri_  prize and learn your secrets."

"'Alkesh'?" She questioned, ignoring the First Prime's words.

Upon receiving a reluctant nod from Bra'tac, Moac explained. "A vessel capable of traveling in hyperspace equipped with weaponry and cloaking abilities to bring the harvest safely to our Gods."

"How long until we get there?" Over the past few days Sam had come to the disturbing realization that they meant captured humans – much like herself – and not crops when speaking of the harvest. Apparently, the Goa'uld saw them as no more than Brussels sprouts and considering the 'harvesting' had been going on before she even got here, a lot of planets must have been visited to get as broad a sample as possible. So far, she hadn't seen or heard any signs of other humans being in this prison as well but it was possible they were in a different corridor or even another compound and it made her wonder why they had been separated. Even if the Jaffa had only taken one person on every raid for at least two weeks they would still need fourteen cells if everyone got their own. Unless they had put her here because she was injured or possibly due to her ties with the SGC – maybe the other humans would become hosts and they simply wanted her for information?

"The duration is unimportant. You must gain strength or be dragged to the  _alkesh_  by your hair, woman," Bra'tac said, indicating the food with his hand.

The hunger pangs had stopped earlier today but she knew she needed the nutrients even if the goop didn't look at all appealing. The texture was awful but the taste was okay. Ignoring the two Jaffa's eyes on her she gobbled it all down, constantly trying to remind herself not to overdo it or it would undoubtedly come up again but the bowl was empty before she knew it. "This ship," Sam said in between licking her fingers clean of the food, "is it outside? I mean, do I have to go outside to get aboard?"

Both Jaffa looked at her askance but eventually Moac nodded. "Indeed."

She idly wondered if she would be able to see the sun and feel it warm her skin when she'd be transferred to the ship because most of the time she still felt chilled to the bone, in spite of using her jacket as a blanket. "Is it far?"

"It matters not," Moac said.

"But it does," she argued as she sat up. "I don't know what the weather and climate outside are like but by changing the venue my wounds could easily get infected in my current condition." When neither of them said anything in response, she sighed. "Look, I'm guessing it'll take at least a few days to reach Apophis by ship and my shoulder might already be infected, so I'd die before you can present me to your Gods."

Bra'tac surprised her with his appraising glance and next words. "What do you propose, hm?"

Sam wasn't sure how to interpret his… willingness, for lack of a better word, to help her because so far he had treated her relatively well in spite of his threats and threatening behavior. Not to mention that most of his questions were about her original mission, like why they had chosen that planet, what had been their purpose, where were her teammates, why had she been alone when she was found? Most of the time she ignored them although sometimes she was forced to give an answer yet it had been nothing of consequence, really. After all the reports she had read about the Goa'uld and Jaffa in general and their ruthlessness in particular she had expected more violence and queries about the iris, SGC and Earth. Perhaps Bra'tac was merely limited in his actions because he had to wait for orders from his god, or something.

"My shoulder might be infected," she said, "and without proper medical treatment that could kill me in this weakened state. However, merely cleaning the wound could help a great deal. So far, I've made do with some small amounts of water but if I have to remove the stitches and clean the bandages then I'll need boiled water, unless you can get me antibiotics and a disinfecting agent. I don't suppose your men took my med kit with them when they abducted me?"

"They did not."

Moac spoke up at the same time as his commander. "Why not use this water?"

"It needs to be boiled to kill all forms of bacteria to prevent further infection," she explained. Upon seeing their confused faces, Sam was once again reminded they were  _aliens_  who carried symbiotes in their pouches to act as their immune system and give them a long and healthy life. "Just boil it. Uh, heat it until it starts to boil." She used her fingers to imitate bubbles rising to the surface and was relieved when Moac finally seemed to understand. Sometimes it was easy to forget they weren't from the same planet and had a language and culture of their own. "And I'll need a clean cloth or a piece of some kind of fabric too, to clean and perhaps bandage it."

Bra'tac muttered some instructions to Moac who left immediately to presumably get her what she had asked for, before giving her his full attention. "Doing this will aid your recovery, hm?"

"Yes, by cleaning the wound and the surrounding tissue I can hopefully keep infections at bay, although I don't know how long it will work considering the extent of my injuries and the lack of medication. Unlike you, we don't have symbiotes to heal us and have to rely on medical treatment and our body's own immune system and healing capabilities," Sam explained with a small smile.

"You are weak," he stated, looking pointedly at her shoulder.

She shrugged with her healthy shoulder, too tired to get into an argument again. Besides, this was the umpteenth time he had called her weak. "Compared to a Jaffa maybe, but at least we don't have to rely on a Goa'uld symbiote to stay alive. I heard your kind can become almost twice as old as us but considering your line of work and the attitude of the Goa'uld towards you – their foot soldiers – you rarely reach that age. You're far more likely to die as a young warrior in a war between supposed gods, or even at the hand of your fellow Jaffa or the God you serve."

Bra'tac's only response was a slight narrowing of his eyes and before either of them could say anything else, Moac entered the corridor carrying another tray. The First Prime opened the cell door for him and followed him back to the stone slab where she was sitting.

" _Mu em setch't,_ " Moac said, smiling slightly. "Water with fire in it."

"Thank you," Sam said as she removed the lid from the pot to reveal the boiled and steaming water. There were two pieces of white fabric not dissimilar to her bandages lying next to it. Fortunately, there was also a ladle so she used it to soak and retrieve one of the cloths. With her right hand she started removing the bandage on her left shoulder as she waited for the cloth to cool off. Not unaware of the Jaffa's eyes on her, Sam placed the used bandage – with some speckles of blood on it – in her lap before reaching for the soaked cloth. The low temperature in the cell meant it had already cooled down enough for her to grab and wring the excess water from it. She kept it to her side and above the stone slab rather than risk the water falling into the pot before she'd had a chance to clean her hands and wounds.

"This will prevent you from getting ill?" Moac asked after she lifted her top a bit and started cleaning the graze on her side.

She nodded as she wiped the surrounding skin with the cloth. "Yes. By cleaning the wounds I can hopefully prevent harmful microorganism from entering my bloodstream which should reduce the risk of infection." It took her longer to clean the gunshot wound in her shoulder and by looking at the incision site, she decided it was time to remove the stitches as well. That took a bit more effort without a handy pair of scissors but she knew this was most likely her last chance to do so. Soon she would be loaded onto a spaceship where there was probably limited room for the prisoners – or 'harvest' – and she doubted Apophis would kindly allow her the time to disinfect her wound and remove the stitches when she was brought before him.

After she had finished cleaning and applying the bandages, they took the remains of the boiled water with them and left her to her own devices. Sam was mildly surprised they hadn't left a guard with her but it wasn't like she could open the cell door – heck, after treating her injuries she hardly had the energy to get up let alone break out – and she took the opportunity to use the facilities without feeling like she was being watched.

It was a few hours – or so she guessed – and a catnap later that Moac and two other unfamiliar Jaffa came to her cell to 'escort' her to the ship. Moac didn't say anything as he grabbed her by the arm and helped the guy on her right side to drag her in the correct direction, but his grip was looser. She was grateful for it because using her left arm or shoulder still caused her excruciating pain and by now Sam was pretty sure she had damaged some nerves from removing the bullet from her shoulder.

They walked through a dozen or so corridors before they reached the exit of the compound and she realized that even if she had somehow managed to muster up enough energy to escape her cell she never would have found her way through this maze. Knowing that no matter what she'd done she still would have ended up back in her cell reassured her somewhat – it made her feel less of a failure. The daylight coming through the open door was an assault on her eyes after so many days in darkness and she was forced to close her eyes and turn her head away because she couldn't shield her eyes with her hands. The pulling and dragging was even more disorientating by her closed eyes so she opened them experimentally upon feeling the sun warming her face.

Blinking rapidly, her eyes slowly adjusted to the light although her head was pounding. She ignored the pain and scanned her surroundings, surprised to see people being herded into a circle a few feet away but no sign of a spaceship… until a strange wooshing sound broke through the silence and metal rings appeared from nowhere to encircle the group of captives in front of her. There was a brief flash of light before the people were gone and the rings moved up.

Sam's gaze followed it all the way to an impressive ship hovering hundreds of meters above them! It was grey-silver of color, pretty big and shaped somewhat into a pyramid, with a length of at least thirty to forty meters as far as she could tell. The height was difficult to determine from this angle but Sam estimated it was probably five stories high. Before she could take in more details Moac pulled her with him while the other guy released her right arm, and then  _she_  was standing in the grass with about a dozen other people when the metal rings descended again. She felt a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach and for a moment, she was afraid the only food she'd had in weeks was about to make a reappearance when Moac squeezed her arm gently and the rings surrounded them.


	15. Solitudes

**Stargate Command**  
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**  
 **August 19, 1997**

It was late but people were still working around the clock to find any signs of the missing half of SG-1. Four days ago there had been some kind of mishap with the 'gate which had caused Daniel and Jack to exit the wormhole at a far greater velocity than they had entered it, leaving them and the unfortunate SF who had been in their path with some minor injuries but Teal'c and Kershaw hadn't followed.

After the eventful mission, his subsequent concussion and two whole days of non-stop worrying about his teammates, Jack was exhausted and suffering from a honking headache. He suppressed a yawn and went straight for the coffee machine in the corner of the briefing room. A glance around the table indicated that his scientists could use some caffeine too so he poured a cup for Daniel and Catherine as well. Hammond was still holed up in his office to convince his superiors to keep the search for Teal'c and Kershaw going. The SGC had already lost the original SG-7 and Captain Carter in one month and now two members of SG-1 were missing…

"You okay, Jack?"

He looked up at Daniel's question as he placed the cups of coffee on the table. "Yeah," he said, sighing, "just tired and getting frustrated with our lack of progress."

"I just hope General Hammond can convince the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the President that it's worth continuing the search of Teal'c and Christina," Daniel said as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"You really think they're out there somewhere?"

Catherine gave Jack a pointed look at his question and gestured at the board that displayed Earth, P4A-771 and the planets that fell into the section between the two planets. "Well, all of Samantha's research suggests that matter introduced into the wormhole is converted into an energized matter stream that is transferred in one direction along an extra-dimensional conduit. That energy has to go somewhere. We also know the stargate is basically a giant superconductor that absorbs energy in many forms, as we all witnessed when we rescued Ernest."

"Wait, wait," Jack said, waving his hand. "'Samantha'? Who's that and what kind of research?"

"Oh, I meant Captain Samantha Carter and her research on the stargate."

He nodded in understanding and motioned for her to continue with her explanation. This was the first time he'd heard anyone refer to the missing and possibly dead Captain by her first name but he knew Catherine had worked together with the woman at the Pentagon and the two of them had grown close, so it wasn't that strange. Aside from Daniel – and Catherine – no one had really had the chance to get to know Carter because she had been sent through the 'gate within hours of arriving at the SGC and most of the personnel he'd spoken to about the young woman were military and thus referred to her by her last name or rank.

"Now, if those aliens on P4A-771 were firing on you with their energy-based weapons and hit the stargate instead, it stands to reason that the energy was absorbed by the stargate until a crucial amount was reached and the stargate had to release it somehow-"

"Which caused our 'gate and dialing computer to overload," Daniel interrupted, enthusiastically finishing her sentence.

"Exactly, and because we don't have a DHD we were unable to compensate for the additional energy and thus the wormhole disconnected," Catherine said. "But the stargate on P4A-771 still had energy, including the converted forms of Mister Teal'c and Lieutenant Kershaw, to discharge and thus simply redirected the wormhole to another stargate. Granted, we can't know for certain  _which_  planet but the most logical explanation would be one near the intended stargate."

Jack nodded slowly after taking a sip of his coffee. "The one on Earth and that's why we're visiting every planet along that line straight to P4A-771," he concluded tiredly. "What about those four dots near Abydos on the board?"

Daniel got up and went over to the board. "These two dots represent Earth and Abydos," he said, pointing at them. "The one in between is Heliopolis or P3X-972, the planet where we found Ernest. After we left, that 'gate probably fell through the castle floor and ended up somewhere in the ocean," he shrugged, "or in pieces, since we don't know what it would take for one to break. Anyway, since our return we haven't been able to get a lock on it and therefore it's highly unlikely the wormhole from P4A-771 would have been able to arc there in spite of it being the closest planet to Earth. These other two unlabeled dots are planets of which we don't have an address yet. The program that corrects addresses for stellar drift does so in a specific order and these haven't popped out yet."

"Do we even know if they  _have_  a stargate?"

"Um, no, we don't, actually. That's a good point, Jack."

He turned to Catherine and waved his hand in the direction of the board. "Is there any way for you or your geeks to adjust Carter's stellar drift program to focus on the planets closest to Earth?"

"Perhaps," she said pensively. "Unfortunately, it's not as simple as converting the stargate's thirty-nine symbols to a specific point in space and then combine six of those with Earth's point of origin, otherwise the entire cartouche could have been turned into workable addresses within a day rather than producing a half a dozen a month. I will look into it and discuss it with my team."

"Hopefully concentrating our efforts on the nearest gates will help us locate Christina and Teal'c sooner rather than later," Daniel mused aloud.

Jack agreed but was silently wondering if they could get to them in time. If the geek squad's theory was correct then Teal'c and Kershaw were thrown out of a different 'gate but considering his own exit he wasn't very optimistic about their current condition. At least he and Daniel had landed in the 'gate room and had a medical staff standing by but their teammates could be on some uninhabited planet or landed smack-dab in the middle of an alien war – he wasn't sure which was worse if they were injured. At least they were together and not each on a different planet, according to Catherine.

He watched as Daniel and Catherine went downstairs to the control room, probably to get started on that stellar drift program or maybe Daniel wanted to check on the statuses of the three teams currently searching off-world for the missing Jaffa and Lieutenant. In a way, he was glad it had happened to them rather than Daniel being stranded somewhere because Teal'c was a lot stronger and had his symbiote to heal most injuries while Kershaw was military-trained and had been studying for her field medical training, so hopefully the two of them could keep each other alive. He didn't really want to think too hard on their possible injuries – broken bones, brain trauma and internal bleeding came to mind – or the circumstances they had found themselves in…

By the time Hammond came out of his office it was morning and two of the search and rescue teams had already returned empty-handed. Jack had debriefed both teams while his CO was in the conference call with his superiors and some of the technicians had been updating the board with newly converted addresses through the night, indicating Catherine had managed to alter the stellar drift program. One more team was still off-world but the board with possible planets was getting more and more crowded with small labels ruling out the planets as the place where Teal'c and Kershaw had ended up.

"Sit rep, Colonel."

"Nothing yet from SG-3 but probe telemetry ruled out P5C-11 and -12. Neither planet has a breathable atmosphere and if they  _had_  ended up there then they would be visible on the cameras. What about the brass, Sir?"

Hammond sighed and sat down heavily in the chair at the head of the briefing room table. "I have formally reported Teal'c and Lieutenant Kershaw as missing in action. You know that doesn't mean we stop searching but we will have to be able to justify our random searches starting tomorrow… or today, I guess," he amended after glancing at his watch. "What is Doctor Langford's opinion?"

"She thinks they're still alive and stranded somewhere between here and P4A-771 but the list of possibilities is narrowing rapidly."

"Does she also have a theory on why your teammates haven't come back on their own?"

Jack shrugged as he stretched his legs under the table, getting a bit more comfortable in the chair. "I told Catherine to get some rest a few hours ago but if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say there's a good chance one or both of them are injured. I mean, Daniel and I came flying through the 'gate, Sir. Who's to say the same didn't happen to Teal'c and Kershaw? Hopefully, Teal'c's injuries have healed by now and he'll be able to take care of Kershaw if she's hurt as well, so maybe we can expect a call sometime soon. Or maybe they don't have a DHD."

"I hope you're right, son," the General said. "It would be a nice surprise if they were to simply dial home after days of searching and worrying on our end."

He smirked at the prospect, fervently hoping that was the case although he had a hard time believing things would ever get easy for SG-1. "That would be nice, Sir."

* * *

**Alkesh  
Hyperspace**

Four meals ago was the last time Sam had seen Moac, the Jaffa she had sort of befriended. Or so she thought. It was difficult to tell with him – the Jaffa in general, really, except for the ones who were being openly hostile towards her, perhaps. After being escorted onto the ship by him, she had been dumped in another cell, not too dissimilar from the one she'd vacated. The major difference was all the gold paneling on the walls with what looked like the occasional section of symbols or maybe hieroglyphs on the  _alkesh_  compared to the rough stone walls of her cell on the planet.

The space was smaller too and she could actually see other cells that held more prisoners through the bars of the front wall of this cell. She wasn't sure whether seeing others like her made her feel better or worse. It was disturbing to say the least. There weren't any guards in these corridors, unless they were farther down and out of sight but she could still feel the eyes of the other humans on her. They were probably wondering why she hadn't been given any roommates as most of the cells had at least half a dozen people packed in them.

Sam had wondered too.

Until Moac had come with her first meal and given her the look that she translated as worry and caution – maybe even with some regret mixed in. He hadn't said a word and simply taken a small bowl of water – no jug anymore – and another bowl of goop similar to what she'd been given the day before from his tray before leaving her all alone again. Her solitary confinement hadn't lasted long, though. Bra'tac had visited her after what she guesstimated to be a few hours since finishing her meal and he'd been joined by two unfamiliar Jaffa: one had been dressed like a Serpent Guard, including helmet, as described in Doctor Jackson's reports and the other wore the same silver skullcap and gold mark on his forehead as Bra'tac did. The Serpent Guard had guarded the cell door while the other newcomer had introduced himself as Kah'l, the First Prime of Apophis, and started questioning her while Bra'tac looked on.

Kah'l's questions had been more thorough than the ones she'd previously been asked and Sam quickly learned he was far more impatient and violent than her previous interrogators as well. By the time they left her cell Sam was lying on the floor with a swollen eye, cracked lip and at least two bruised ribs on her left side. Despite the injuries and pain she had been smiling, though. Kah'l may have lost his temper but she had managed to keep her tongue in check, not saying a word.

Score one for Sam.

Since then Kah'l had returned after every meal, which she figured was once a day although she had no proof for this other than the gnawing hunger in her stomach, her whacked sense of time and how often the torches in the corridors were replaced. That meant she hadn't seen Moac for four days and it worried her. Bra'tac hadn't shown himself since boarding the ship except for that first day and she saw Kah'l and some of his Jaffa too often for her liking.

Her swollen eye was getting better and opening it hardly hurt anymore but her ribs were killing her. The ones on her left side were now definitely cracked after receiving several hits and kicks to her chest over the past few days. Every time she moved, coughed, sneezed or breathed she was left winded and in pain. After her last meal, Kah'l had hit her in the face so hard she'd spun around and dropped face-first to the floor like a sack of potatoes, worrying that he'd fractured her cheekbone due to the explosion of pain in her face.

Before she could even bring up her hand to probe the area he had stomped down on her back with his heavy boot, bruising at least four additional ribs on her right. Sam hadn't been able to suppress the sob torn from her lips at the impact which had pleased Kah'l immensely and earned her another swift kick to her right side, the toe of his boot hitting the exact spot where one of Grieves' bullets had grazed her.

The pain must have knocked her out because when she opened her eyes again she was still lying on the floor, the cool stones soothing her aching cheekbone. Kah'l and his men were nowhere to be seen and her torso hurt with every breath. Tentatively, Sam used her right hand to pat down her side, hissing when she touched her protruding and most likely cracked ribs but her world really started spinning when she pressed down on her poorly bandaged side.

She barely had enough time to push up with her left hand before her meal came up again and she vomited all over the floor. Her arm was shaking under her weight and she tried to ignore the pain in her shoulder as best she could, focusing on her shallow breathing to stop her retching which only served to aggravate her ribcage. After what felt like forever her abdominal muscles finally stopped convulsing and her dry heaving ended, leaving Sam exhausted, sweating, weak and in pain as she collapsed back to the floor, narrowly missing her tossed food.

Neither the nausea nor the pain had abated but she knew she had to move, so she plopped onto her back and took a moment to stare up at the high ceiling. In spite of her injured ribs Sam forced herself to take deeper breaths in the hopes of correcting her labored breathing before she would start hyperventilating or pass out again due to lack of oxygen. Once her respiratory rate had slowed down, she used her right hand to lift her shirt and check out the graze wound. Fortunately, the dirty bandage wasn't showing any signs of bleeding so she carefully pulled it back and was pleased to see the skin hadn't opened again. However, a large bruise the size of a Jaffa boot was starting to blossom on her side.

Sighing, she let her head rest against the floor and blindly covered the injury again with the bandage and lowered her shirt. Her ribs were hurting but she already knew some were cracked and the ones on her back felt like they were freshly bruised, so she skipped the exam and went straight to the gunshot wound in her shoulder. For some reason Kah'l had avoided hitting her there even though he must have been aware of the injury, if only from seeing the formerly white bandage peeping out above the cut neckline of her tank top. Bra'tac and Moac certainly knew but either they hadn't told Kah'l or Apophis had ordered them to interrogate without doing any permanent damage. The latter made sense because Bra'tac had already told her the Goa'uld wanted to see and interrogate her in person and, who knew, maybe even parade her around for his System Lord buddies. All of that would be difficult if she was dead or dying by the time they reached his base of operations.

Sam groaned, deciding she had given herself enough time to gather her strength and rolled over to her side. Slowly but surely she crawled to the other side of the cell where her jacket was lying and sat up. With a small grimace she managed to roll up her top until it only covered her sports bra and tied her jacket's sleeves tightly around her ribcage to support her damaged ribs before she leaned back against the wall, hoping the cool panels against her bare back could take the place of an ice compress.

Letting her gaze wander her eyes landed on the bowl to her right, which only had a small amount of water left in it. For a moment, she debated with herself whether to use it to rinse her mouth and drink it or clean the gunshot wound in her shoulder with it. Yesterday she had used the last bit of her rationed water to clean the wound but the puckered skin had already started to look an angry red and it seemed to be spreading to the surrounding tissues, so was it really worth it now? Just removing the bandage and probing the area with her dirty fingers could make the infection worse, right?

She reached out for the bowl and tipped the remaining water into her mouth, using it to rinse her mouth before she swallowed it with a grimace. It tasted foul but she needed all the fluids she could get, especially now that her water intake had been drastically reduced since boarding the ship and she had started sweating more profusely, losing even more fluids…


	16. Surprises

**Goa'uld Mothership**  
**Planet unknown**

A few weeks ago, they arrived on a new planet in their  _alkesh_  after about a week in hyperspace, according to Sam's guesstimate. Right before Moac had finally made another appearance in her cell she had suddenly been knocked over sideways, hurting her already fragile and injured body even more. At first it had puzzled her until she recalled being tossed about out of the blue once before upon being placed in her cell aboard the  _alkesh_  and Moac had explained to her that it meant the ship accelerated to great speeds or decelerated to normal speed – she assumed it was entering or exiting what they called hyperspace on Earth. It meant they had arrived at their destination and were approaching the planet, which was why Moac and other Jaffa were sent to the cells; to collect and transport the humans.

Sam had been relieved to see him again after days of his unexplained absence, during which she'd caught glimpses of Bra'tac while Kah'l had conducted his interrogation and beaten the crap out of her. Moac had been surprisingly gentle with her broken body, although he made sure not to show it to anyone looking at them upon leaving her cell but she appreciated it nonetheless. After ringing down to the planet, she had been overwhelmed by the scene before her. Moac had explained that the huge spaceship – an improved  _ha'tak_  – atop the pyramid was Apophis' mothership being readied for battle. Aside from a few pyramids that wouldn't look out of place in Egypt there had been some tents and makeshift barracks, presumably for the Jaffa and human slaves. But that was all Sam had seen of her surroundings before another Jaffa had roughly grabbed her around the waist and the collective pain of her broken ribs, gunshot wounds and recently received concussion made her pass out again.

By the time she came to she had been strung up to the ceiling with her wrists bound by manacles and the same nameless Jaffa who'd made her pass out was in the room with her. He'd been the first thing she saw upon regaining consciousness and she'd dimly wondered why he was guarding her – it wasn't like she could go anywhere – until he had gone out to alert someone that she had come to. At the time, Sam drifted off again, having decided unconsciousness was much better than being awake and feeling the pain from the unnatural position she was hanging in but she had been rudely awoken by Kah'l yanking her head back by her hair.

The First Prime of Apophis had started interrogating and beating her again for a few hours, after which someone must have taken her down and dragged her off to yet another cell aboard the  _ha'tak_  because when she woke up again she was lying curled up on the cold floor. It had continued like that for the first few days, sometimes she would be given food – stale bread or goop – and water before she was hauled off again by Kah'l's men for a few hours of questions and other times they came in the middle of this planet's night or before breakfast.

Some days, there was no food or water at all, either before or after the interrogations.

Sam's condition gradually worsened. Kah'l had broken her nose at least once and combined with her bruised and cracked ribs, breathing was difficult and very painful. Being strung up to the ceiling by manacles with her feet barely managing to support her weight certainly wasn't doing her joints, ribs or the gunshot wound in her shoulder any favors. The Jaffa also seemed to take a perverse pleasure in dragging her through the corridors as roughly as possible and one of them had even kicked at her ankle one day, causing what she was pretty sure was ligament damage which made it even more difficult to stand on her own two feet. It didn't help that they'd taken her boots from her, meaning she had been barefoot at the time and her ankle completely unprotected.

However, it was a week or two after she had been brought aboard the  _ha'tak_  that she realized Kah'l's behavior towards her was more a rough manhandling. That morning she had been taken out of her cell before breakfast and in the interrogation room Kah'l had been waiting for her with another man, dressed in flamboyant clothing and a silly headdress. Kah'l had addressed him as Lord Zipacna in a respectful tone and displayed subservient behavior towards him while his Jaffa had strung her manacles up to the ceiling.

Zipacna turned out to be a Goa'uld in service of Apophis and he had taken it upon himself to get the answers they wanted from her, whatever means necessary. That was when they went from interrogating to torturing her and in spite of the front she put on, Sam was scared. She wasn't sure how much more she could take without breaking. Zipacna had a three-pronged rod that inflicted such an intense pain upon contact that she couldn't hold back her screams. The last time he'd had Apophis' Jaffa take her to him he had pressed the pain stick – as she had taken to calling it – against the bandage on her shoulder and she could still feel the gunshot wound and her arm throb in pain…

Heavy footfalls in the corridor outside her cell startled Sam from her thoughts. The metallic clanking of armor was accompanied by the sounds of rattling chains in front of the door and her heart started pounding at the realization the Jaffa were coming for her again. Kah'l had put cuffs around her wrists and ankles the first time she'd been taken to the torture room aboard this ship. No one had bothered taking the manacles off her since, but the fetters were always removed before they dumped her in her cell to make moving around a bit easier – and it was the leg cuffs she could hear on the other side of the cell.

A sense of dread welled up in the pit of her stomach before the door opened and Bra'tac entered her cell. Sam was surprised to see him as it had been a week or two since she had last caught a glimpse of him. With Zipacna in charge of her interrogations she had assumed Bra'tac and Kah'l had been called back to serve Apophis and his son Klorel. The old Jaffa seemed to take his time as his dark eyes scrutinized her and she couldn't help but wonder what he saw when he looked at her.

Several hits in the face were responsible for her broken nose, cracked lips, black eye and a suspected fractured cheekbone which was why half her face was swollen and painful. The lack of freely available water meant she drank most of it to keep herself hydrated and had to resort to using the sleeve of her jacket to clean her face, so she had to look a fright with traces of dried blood on her face and possibly in her matted and greasy hair. There probably didn't appear to be anything wrong with her body outwardly, except perhaps for her clothes hanging off her too-skinny frame, her pretty much useless left arm cradled against her chest and her protruding ribs and hipbones.

Sam waited for him to make a move rather than waste her energy trying to get up. The Jaffa usually just snapped on the fetters before grabbing the chain between her manacles to drag her away, so why should she bother getting up at all?

"You do not look well, Captain Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force," Klorel's First Prime said in his usual gruff voice.

She attempted a smile but knew it turned out lopsided – and possibly macabre – due to the swelling and fractures in her face. "If I'd known you were coming…" she said lamely, her voice cracking due to disuse.

"Then what, woman? Hm? You would still look unwell."

"It's a…" She tried to roll her eyes but it was too painful and gave up, sighing. "Never mind."

"Apophis and Klorel grow tired of your futile resistance," he said.

"They should complain to Zipacna… he hasn't been doing such a bang up job." Sam figured she might as well try some bravado and a blasé attitude towards her predicament. Perhaps it would make them frustrated enough with her to just kill her already. "He seems to be more intent on making me suffer than getting answers out of me."

Bra'tac huffed in response and seemed almost disappointed with her before looking over his shoulder. " _Jaffa, kree!_ "

Two unfamiliar Jaffa appeared behind him on his command. The chains she'd heard earlier were dangling from number one's hands and he turned to his commander. " _Kel, Tchaas Bra'tac?_ "

" _Sṭefu,_ " he said, holding out his hand and waiting for the Jaffa to place the leg cuffs in it. For some reason, the First Prime walked up to her himself to fetter her legs during which he was surprisingly gentle with her injured and swollen ankle. With a last, almost remorseful glance he stepped back quickly and turned back to his underlings. " _Zipacna kel sha_ _ḥ_ _eq s'mer. Kree mel!_ "

Sam braced herself as he headed for the exit and his men stepped forward: she'd heard some of those words before and she was pretty sure it meant something along the lines of take her to Zipacna to be tortured. As she had expected one of the Jaffa grabbed the chain between her wrists and gave it a rough yank until she fell forward. Then he simply dragged her behind him as his pal brought up the rear while they made their way to the torture room. The strain on her shoulders was a bit painful in this position but it was much worse when she was hanging from the ceiling. Both joints had dislocated a few days in and popping them back became harder after every session – so she focused on watching the ceiling as she was being dragged away, attempting to ignore the pain in her ribs, the rough bumping against the floor and the chafing of the cuffs against the sensitive skin of her wrists.

After her boots were taken from her she had washed her socks as best she could with what little water she had before wrapping the socks around her wrists in the hopes of offering some protection against the manacles. The metal had been chafing her skin raw for weeks, digging deeper into her flesh whenever pressure was exerted on the cuffs. In a way, she was surprised the raw skin of her wrists only showed mild signs of infection by now. The gunshot wound on her shoulder hadn't been so lucky and was definitely infected; it hadn't healed well and the scar and surrounding tissue were painful to the touch, swollen and discolored, all of which made worse by hanging from her wrists for hours on end on an almost daily basis.

By the time her escorts came to a halt, Sam was sweating profusely and her heart was pounding, either from the pain or in anticipation of the pain that was yet to come. She swallowed hard when Zipacna, who was talking to Bra'tac in their alien language, looked in her direction with a smug and almost eager look on his face. The two Jaffa 'guarding' her dragged her over to the middle of the room and one of them lifted her while the other attached her chains to a beam in the ceiling after Zipacna uttered the dreaded " _m'ta_ " and gestured up. The nausea returned with a vengeance after they released her and her full weight was hanging from her wrists, her feet scrambling for purchase on the cold floor. Her whole body, from her feet to her hands suspended above her head, ached with some of her more serious injuries throbbing painfully in sync with her pulse.

"We shall begin,  _Tau'ri_ ," Zipacna said in a formal yet mocking tone after he had dismissed the Jaffa.

She glared at him as he paced in front of her. "I can't wait," she said through gritted teeth.

"Insolence!" He roared and not for the first time she thought he had a rather dramatic flair but all thought fled her mind when he suddenly backhanded her. "You responded well to the  _s_ _ṭ_ _eb_  yesterday."

Sam's head was still spinning from the impact and she spat out some blood when he suddenly poked her with the painstick. "Aaaahhh!" It felt like her nerve endings exploded and liquid fire ran through her veins. She'd thrown her head back, contorting in pain while hanging from the ceiling and could swear she saw flames behind her closed eyelids.

"Yes, you just need a little prodding," Zipacna sneered, pressing the tip against her bandaged shoulder.

She screamed and it felt like heat came out of her mouth and eye sockets, vaporizing her tears before they could run down her cheeks.

* * *

**Stargate Command**  
**Cheyenne Mountain, CO**  
**September 18, 1997**

General Hammond had been in DC since Monday and would return over the weekend if all went according to plan, leaving Jack – as Hammond's 2IC – to fill in as base commander again. Half his team was still out of commission so there wasn't much to do for him, anyway. It had been about a month since Teal'c and Kershaw were found in Antarctica, but the two were still recovering. Teal'c had been injured the worst with a broken leg, fractured ribs and internal bleeding for which he'd been rushed into surgery by Doc Warner, while Kershaw had sustained a sprained knee, some scrapes and bruises and a honking concussion atop of her hypothermia.

Fortunately, Teal'c's symbiote had helped stave off his hypothermia and aided in his recovery process after they'd been rescued and the Jaffa had been able to kelno'reem again. Doc Fraiser had already removed the mid-thigh cast two weeks ago to replace it with a brace and Teal'c had been making a lot of progress with his physical therapy. As a matter of fact, he and Kershaw – whose knee also needed PT – had an appointment with the CMO later today to determine whether they could be cleared for active duty again.

Jack knew Teal'c was doing well and had already been spotted in the gym to practice some of the easier moves of Jaffa martial arts this week. Kershaw had been on light duty since last week but Jack feared her knee was going to need a bit more PT before she'd be ready to go on missions again – he had some experiences with knee ligament damage, after all. He knew Fraiser would confer with the physiotherapist before deciding whether to clear them or not and he just hoped the two women would be able to convince Kershaw to take it easy. He was well aware of the young Lieutenant's penchant to overdo it and if she forced the issue with her knee she might do more harm than good in the long run. Again, he was familiar with it, having had two knee surgeries already and with all the action he'd seen so far this year he wouldn't be surprised if there was another one in store for him in the future…

If one or both of his teammates weren't cleared by the Doc then he would either have to postpone SG-1's mission to P3X-989 scheduled for next week or hand it over to another team. After a month of being Earth-bound, Jack was ready for some action but not at the expense of his teammates. He had no intention of going on the mission without Kershaw – and possibly an extra fourth to fill in for her – because he suspected that would have a contrary effect on her if the CMO insisted she take it easy. Teal'c was getting antsy too but the Jaffa seemed to respect Doctor Fraiser's expert opinion on his recovery and abided by her rules, although his new fascination with movies – courtesy of Daniel – seemed to have taken some of the edge off. Daniel, on the other hand, had been keeping busy in his lab, trying to find out more about this second stargate they had recovered from Antarctica and hadn't asked about going off-world or new missions so far.

Hammond's meetings with the brass reminded Jack of his own two recent trips to DC and, more specifically, his meeting with Sam. He hadn't managed to track her down during his second time, which had only made the whole thing more disappointing.

It was odd that even after two months the woman was still on his mind, especially considering he barely knew her. Jack couldn't really explain it other than there had simply been something special about her. It hadn't been just the sex which, granted, had been great – even if they'd had their clumsy moments – but he'd been drawn to her from the moment he first laid eyes on her in that bar. He couldn't deny she was attractive but he'd seen plenty of gorgeous women over the years and he rarely felt such a connection with them. Perhaps he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Sam because she was the first who had really made him  _feel_  something since Sara and losing Charlie…

Maybe he was simply getting soft or experiencing some kind of mid-life crisis and that was the reason he wanted to get to know Sam better. Just when he'd thought he had adjusted to his solitary life after the divorce, the SGC and his team had come along, and now there was Sam. A young, attractive, intelligent and funny woman like her could probably have her pick of men, even if she had told him that it had been a while since she'd been with someone. It was possible she simply wasn't looking for a relationship because she was too busy with her job, whatever that may be. Or maybe she wasn't at that stage in her life where she wanted to settle down with someone – unlike him apparently.

After losing Charlie and the subsequent divorce from Sara, Jack had been sure he'd never open himself up for that sort of pain again. Yet, slowly but surely, he had let people back into his life. Hammond, Fraiser, his team and now Catherine had also managed to get past his gruff exterior and Jack couldn't help but wonder where Sam fit into all of this.

He knew contemplating it was ridiculous because the chance that he'd ever see her again outside of the occasional dreams he'd been having was very small. Perhaps his night with Sam had been the eye opener he needed to realize he missed having someone to share his life with, even if it couldn't be her. Someone whose brilliant smile and large expressive eyes made him feel… good, happy even. Like all was right with the world, despite the things he saw when he stepped through the 'gate.

Jack sighed and glanced at the clock. Two hours ago SG-5 had returned from their mission into Goa'uld occupied territory and while they had been unable to get any intel on Apophis, Skaara, Sha're or even the missing Captain Carter, they  _had_  managed to get their greedy little paws on a small amount of raw naquadah. He'd sent the team straight to the infirmary to get checked out while he'd taken the naquadah to Catherine and her fellow scientists who'd all been geeking out by the time he left, but SG-5's debriefing was about an hour and a half from now.

Reaching for the General's in-tray he started browsing the files and folders, looking for something interesting to fill up his time regardless of the order of importance of the various documents. Upon seeing the OSI report he grimaced, reminded of the investigation into Captain Carter's actions on P3X-425 and the fallout for SG-7 – and herself. The two OSI special agents had worked with the evidence brought back from the planet, interviews with and redacted mission reports filed by the remaining members of SG-7, and Daniel, Teal'c and Jack himself regarding their failed mission to retrieve Carter's body.

Fortunately, the investigation had been wrapped up last week and Hammond had been given the OSI's official report before leaving for Washington DC. The Carter case would undoubtedly be brought up by the brass during their numerous meetings this week, but Jack was pleased that at least Captain Carter's name had been cleared. More or less. Since the OSI didn't have clearance it was difficult to actually  _prove_  anything, especially with it being Grieves' word against the evidence Jack had brought back that indicated the Captain hadn't died instantly and that she'd been hit by at least one  _bullet_. The ballistics hadn't matched any of the three sidearms brought back by SG-7 but they had oh so coincidentally mixed up their Berettas with the serials not matching the ones each person had signed out and Adams' sidearm was missing, presumably because Carter had accidentally taken it instead of her own.

Due to the nature of the Program and their cover story – deep space radar telemetry – it was pretty much impossible to claim Captain Carter was missing in action and presumed dead and, considering the size of the galaxy, the brass had insisted on changing Carter's status to killed in action. General Hammond had told Jack he would visit the woman's father in DC this week and had asked him if he wanted to attend the funeral – with military honors – tomorrow as well.

Under normal circumstances, one of them was supposed to stay at the SGC to command the base, but Hammond felt their presence at the funeral would be good for General Carter who was already suspicious about the circumstances surrounding his daughter's death. Catherine and Daniel were going as well, since both of them had been friends with the Captain and Jack figured it couldn't hurt to support them. Not to mention that it might look odd if only Hammond showed up, because Carter's own team wasn't going to be there – Grieves seemed to have succeeded in planting doubts about her in their minds and the ones of some other personnel in spite of the OSI's findings, or so he'd heard through the grapevine. His own gut told him the Captain was innocent and for some reason, Grieves had come up with this crazy theory. The only scenario that came to mind was the man shooting his own 2IC, either on purpose or accidental but he doubted they would ever learn the truth.

Jack hazarded another glance at the clock and wondered if he should go to lunch prior to the debriefing – those things could take a while after all – or afterwards. He was already reaching for the phone to call his teammates when he recalled that Teal'c and Kershaw were undergoing their evaluation and thus lunch had to wait. Instead, he decided to look into Captain Carter's personnel file to get a better understanding of her. So far, it hadn't been necessary for him to look into anything personally but he was curious.

All he knew about the Captain-Doctor was that she was young, intelligent, accomplished, and capable and a promising officer. Someone of her intellect – and according to her file it was off the chart – certainly wouldn't be as stupid to show their eagerness at going off-world and working with alien doohickeys only to go rogue on their very first mission, would they?

It made no sense at all. Snorting to himself, Jack moved on to her Academy records, which were very impressive. Top scores and awards for just about everything. He smiled at the accompanying picture of the woman as a young eighteen-year-old cadet, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Great smile too… Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought she looked a bit familiar, so he checked her date of birth – she would have turned twenty-nine at the end of the year, which meant the picture was almost eleven years old.

There was no current picture in her military jacket and her SGC file hadn't been updated yet but when he clicked on her previous duty station – the Pentagon – his eyes went wide. The picture was slightly grainy and judging by the shorter hair a year or two old, but this Captain reminded him an awful lot of Sam… There wasn't a luminous smile and photograph wasn't in color either but the file said Carter had blue eyes and blonde hair, too. His eyes went back to the top of her personnel file and he swallowed hard.

 _Samantha Carter_.

Up until now Jack hadn't given her name much thought, although he did remember how Catherine had referred to the Captain-Doctor by 'Samantha' once or twice in the past few weeks and it wasn't unusual for Samanthas to go by  _Sam_ … It also sort-of explained his Sam's attitude about getting involved with military men, especially of the same branch: unfortunately, women still had to be very careful with their reputation in the Air Force because it was still an old boys' club and thus a lot of female officers simply avoided relationships with fellow officers.

Holy crap!

His Sam was Captain-Doctor Samantha Carter?! How had he not known that? Jack quickly scanned the rest of her history and he wasn't surprised to see she had still been stationed at the Pentagon when they met almost two months ago. As a matter of fact, her mission had been the day after the night they had spent together – when he'd still been meeting with the JCS and the President.

Had she known who he was? Jack quickly dismissed the thought. Of course not. She wouldn't have gotten into a possibly compromising situation with the 2IC of the base she wanted to get assigned to. Plus, Sam had been surprised, perhaps even a bit dismayed, at seeing his dog tags at the time…

The ringing of the phone brought him out of his thoughts and Jack quickly reached for it, relieved it wasn't the red phone. "O'Neill."

"Colonel, this is Doctor Fraiser. I'm afraid I won't be able to clear Lieutenant Kershaw yet. Her physiotherapist and I both agree that she needs about a week before she can return to 'gate travel. Mister Teal'c is ready for active duty, however."

Jack nodded in understanding, already having expected as much. "Okay, Doc. I guess that means SG-1 is grounded for another week. I'll hand next week's mission over to another team in that case." He thanked her and hung up the phone. He was still confused about his new findings but he had told his team they could have lunch together, so perhaps it would be best to simply join them. If Daniel was there maybe he could do a little bit of digging and find out more about Sam Carter…


	17. Desperation

**Goa'uld Mothership**  
**Planet unknown**

Sam was lying on her back on the cold floor of her cell, her breathing shallow and rapid. A little while ago she had been dumped in her cell after another session with Zipacna and ever since she had been unable to get her body to fully relax. He had used that dreadful painstick again but this time he'd exposed her concaved stomach and pressed the rod's pokers in her belly button. It had caused her muscles to undergo violent spasms while causing an excruciating pain to travel through her body. Screaming out in agony hadn't even been an option with her jaws clenched and her tongue trapped between her teeth as she convulsed in restraints.

It had felt like forever until she stopped twisting and shaking in her cuffs, every muscle in her body cramped and aching all over. Her tongue had been bleeding and she was pretty sure she'd cracked at least one tooth. That wasn't a big deal compared to the molar or two she'd already lost from Kah'l's beatings, but before she could complete a mental inventory of the damage, Zipacna had placed the painstick against her tailbone, sending her into another series of convulsions until she'd passed out.

She had woken up in her cell, still cramped, in pain, sweating and dirty. Even now, a few hours later Sam was still suffering from the occasional involuntary muscle contractions, mostly in her abdomen. The pain in her shoulders and ribs was worse today compared to after her previous sessions, probably because of how she had been thrashing against her restraints while convulsing. At least now her other injuries were more of a dull ache rather than the constant throbbing and inflamed feeling.

As she lay there, Sam mentally recited the elements of the periodic table while letting her right hand wander down her body. It hurt when she touched her ribs and she was pretty sure she could feel one the broken ones shifting, which was a new development. So far, the Jaffa and Zipacna had been careful not to injure her torso too severely, probably because they didn't want her to succumb to a punctured lung or internal bleeding. She briefly wondered how much they knew about human anatomy since a blood clot or, a more likely scenario for her, an infection could just as easily be the end.

Right now, she would almost welcome it…

She must have drifted off because the next thing she knew the door to her cell slammed shut and she could sense someone else's presence in the small space. Turning her head until the relatively unscathed side of her face was resting against the cold floor Sam realized Bra'tac was standing a few feet away from her, with a large bucket at his feet. She had to clear her throat a few times before she could speak and even then it was difficult with her swollen tongue. "What… are you… doing here?"

"You are to be brought before Apophis and Klorel after sunrise," he said.

Sam blinked, wondering what that had to do with his presence in her cell. "Come to… say goodbye?"

Bra'tac moved towards her and placed the bucket closer, water sloshing over its side as he set it down. "Sit up, woman. You will need your strength," he said, ignoring her question and presenting her with a loaf of bread.

"Why? They'll kill me anyway. Might as well get it over with."

"Not yet. Now, eat."

Unable to ignore the hunger gnawing at her stomach upon the scent of freshly baked bread, she took it from him and placed it in her lap. She was still lying on the floor with her useless left arm cradled against her chest, so she placed the loaf in the inside of her elbow before tearing a piece of bread off it with her right hand. Chewing proved difficult with her swollen tongue, dry mouth and aching jaw and she almost choked on her first piece, causing another coughing fit. Sam yelped in pain when Bra'tac grabbed her by the shoulder to pull her into a sitting position, her feet falling from the ledge she'd rested them on and dark spots appeared in front of her eyes as her broken rib shifted. "Stop!" she gasped, the bread falling to the floor as she wrapped her arms around her torso.

"Do you think pleading with Apophis will help, hm? He will do far worse than Zipacna if you do not tell him what he wishes to know."

She ignored him as best she could and focused on steadying her breathing, while trying not to think about the pain plaguing her body. Once she could draw air without aggravating her ribs too much she reached for the bread again, tearing off a smaller piece this time.

Bra'tac scrutinized her movements for a while as she munched on the bread. " _Mu em setch't,_ " he said, gesturing to the bucket. "Water."

"Boiled water?" She asked, craning her neck to look into the bucket.

"To clean your wounds," he said as he gave her another onceover, his eyes lingering on her pants, "and perhaps your clothing. You soiled yourself."

Sam refused to be embarrassed by his blunt statement and glared up at him. "Yes, that happens when you torture someone to the point of causing them to lose control of their muscles and their body shutting down."

Channeling her emotions into anger helped her forget about the pain and how broken she was, if only for a moment. A heavy silence fell upon them and eventually she cast her eyes down, looking at her ruined pants. Today hadn't been the first time she had lost control of her bladder and bowel movements and she didn't expect it to be the last if Apophis really wasn't planning on killing her just yet. That didn't make it any easier though. She had been aboard this ship for a few weeks now and with the small amounts of water she was given, it was hard to ration it for cleaning herself and her clothes when she was thirsty all the time! Her tank top hadn't fared much better with all the perspiring, bleeding and vomiting, except Kah'l and Zipacna had both ordered the Jaffa to douse her with ice-cold water on several occasions, which had cleaned her upper body somewhat.

"Look at you," Bra'tac said as he leaned down to her level. "You look weak and pathetic." When he raised his hand she flinched, expecting him to strike her or yank at her hair but instead he simply cupped her unscathed cheek, cradling it almost gently. "Why are you so stubborn, human?" He shifted and suddenly there was a cup filled with tepid water to her lips. "Drink."

The water felt heavenly to her dry mouth and she was disappointed when he pulled the cup away. Sam leaned into his rough palm when he cupped her cheek again and looked into his dark eyes. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Tears welled up in her eyes and she could've sworn she saw… something, in his eyes. She was tired and her brain too sluggish to pinpoint it before it was gone.

"You need to rest, Captain Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force."

She watched him leave and scooted over to the bucket when the door closed behind him. It was difficult to remove her pants and took far longer than it normally would, but eventually she managed it and was left staring at her bony legs. Muscles seemed to have wasted away over the past few weeks and they were skin over bones, covered in bruises of various colors from the getting hit, kicked or poked with Zipacna's painstick. Sighing, Sam braced herself to get up to remove her panties and clean herself before she would fall asleep from pure exhaustion.

* * *

**Arlington National Cemetery**  
**Arlington, VA**  
**September 19, 1997**

The day had started out balmy but sometime during the service the sun had disappeared behind the clouds and by the time the three volleys were fired the sky was completely overcast. Jack thought the somber weather was fitting under the circumstances. Although, considering his own dark mood, a thunder storm with some lightning strikes might be even better.

He still had a hard time believing his Sam and Captain Carter were – or had been – the same person but the proof was undeniable. The picture chosen for the service removed all doubts, even if he remembered Sam with tousled hair, flushed cheeks and a luminous smile rather than the more official-looking photograph taken at her last promotion in which she was in uniform and wearing a proud smile.

The suspicious circumstances surrounding Sam's death and the lack of investigation into Grieves only added to Jack's mixed emotions. Hell, he didn't even know for sure she was dead! Teal'c had said it was unlikely for Apophis to keep her alive for more than a few weeks at most and simply kill her when she had served her purpose, but there  _was_  a chance she was still alive even now, seven weeks later. The only problem with that theory was that there had been no sign of her anywhere and they had no idea where to start looking for her. He knew Hammond was reluctant to give up hope too but they had to admit the odds were against them, especially with the higher-ups deciding the Captain was most likely killed – or at least she was considered irretrievable and therefore might as well be dead. And that was assuming she  _had_  been taken by the Jaffa on P3X-425 and not the natives or somehow gotten caught in the natural disaster that had destroyed the village and pretty much everything in a five-mile radius of the 'gate, all of which suggested the alien device was missing or defective…

Jack swallowed hard against the onslaught of emotions he felt at the sound of  _Taps_ being played and saluted in sync with the rest of the military personnel to honor their fallen comrade. They had lost too many good people this past year at the hands of the Goa'uld and perhaps the worst part was that no one would ever know what these people had done for their country – their  _planet_. Their loved ones would think they died in a training exercise.

He clenched his jaw in anger and tried to focus on the service itself. There had been quite a turnout for Captain Samantha Carter's funeral, mostly military personnel from the Pentagon but also some civilians plus a bunch of technicians and scientists from the SGC who had joined Hammond, Catherine, Daniel and Jack on the military transport to DC. Overall, though, it was a sea of blue with some black and grey here and there.

As  _Taps_  ended, he heard a soft sob and saw that at his left, Catherine was overcome with grief. Jack gently placed his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture and handed her the handkerchief he'd taken with him precisely for this purpose. She smiled at him gratefully and as she started dabbing at her eyes he exchanged glances with Daniel, who was on his right. The archaeologist had watery and red-rimmed eyes behind his glasses but aside from the occasional sniffle he seemed to be holding it together – Jack had been concerned that the service for Sam would bring up memories of Sha're's fate for Daniel but it would appear he didn't have to worry about that right now.

His gaze moved to Hammond who was standing next to Sam's dad, both men's faces a blank mask not unlike the one adorning Jack's own face. There weren't any outward similarities between Sam and her father but it was clear the man was grieving in spite of his tough act, yet there was also pride in his stance. It couldn't be easy for the man to bury his only daughter who had died under mysterious circumstances – Jack had overheard General Carter telling Hammond that he didn't buy the training exercise excuse, which was understandable considering the man's job and the lack of a body – when they had been somewhat estranged for the past few years. Clearly, Sam's father had loved her very much and Jack could imagine the pain the man was feeling after losing Charlie. The fact that Sam's brother hadn't shown up for the funeral had to be an additional blow.

Catherine told him that Mark and Sam hadn't been close, only keeping in touch via the occasional cards and phone calls on birthdays and that she'd only seen him twice since his daughter had been born two years ago, but the male Carters didn't speak at all. Something about Mark not liking the military and thus painting his sister with the same brush as their father. Apparently, not even Sam's death was enough of a motivation for him to mend fences temporarily or perhaps the General had been unable to contact his son to invite him…

No matter how estranged the family had been the past few years Jack knew General Carter had to be hurting over the loss of his daughter. The man looked a bit frail too with his dress blues appearing a size or two too large, which was usually the other way around for aging generals. Perhaps the stress and grief were affecting him more than he wanted to admit… Still, General Carter stood tall and proud when presented with the folded flag in honor of his daughter.

Jack blinked away tears welling up in his eyes at memories of Sam – flirting and joking with him in the bar, her smiling up at him in bed and how naturally beautiful she was straight out of the shower – when the signal was given for the empty casket to be lowered in the ground. Again, he and every other military member saluted until it was resting in the ground and the chaplain concluded the service.

* * *

**Goa'uld Mothership**  
**Planet unknown**

Four Jaffa roughly dragged Sam out of her cell and dunked her into a barrel-like thing filled with water until she nearly passed out. She barely had enough time to hold her breath before her head was submerged. After the dunking, two of the Jaffa lifted the barrel and doused her with the cold water while she'd still been catching her breath, leaving her soaked from head to toe. The water itself hadn't really bothered her, except it left her chilled to the bone.

Due to the cramping of her abdominal muscles, various broken bones and a few seriously infected and rank wounds she hadn't slept well at all, so in a way the cold water had been a nice distraction and made her a bit more aware. Unfortunately, getting hauled through numerous corridors by a bunch of uncaring Jaffa hadn't done her injuries – especially her ankle and broken toes – any favors with her legs dragging over the rough floors but Sam had been too tired to really care or put up a fight.

Eventually, they reached a large room with a dozen or so Jaffa guards, more gold paneled walls, a black marble-like floor and some kind of fancy braziers to light up the place. A large dais with hardwood edgings was centered at the end of the room with two thrones on it. The one to the right was huge and in it was who Sam assumed to be Apophis, clad in a golden outfit with some strange metal-like shoulder piece, a gold-colored cape and a dull golden skullcap. The other throne was smaller and at first glance, she thought it was for his mate but as the Jaffa dragged her towards the dais, she realized it was a young man with long black hair. He wore a golden brown tunic-like garment with jewels on his chest and some kind of golden bracelets around his wrists.

" _Benna! Ya wan ya duru!_ Kneel before your masters!" Bra'tac said in a raised voice from where he was standing next to the dais in his regular Jaffa outfit, staff weapon in hand.

Sam barely had time to react before one of the Jaffa struck her against the back of her knees with his staff weapon. "Ow," she yelped as her bony knees and hands hit the hard marble floor. The chains between her cuffs rattled loudly against the marble and her wet frame created a small puddle on the floor. From her kneeled position, she glanced up and saw both Apophis and the young man giving her thorough onceovers.

Lowering her gaze, she tried to ignore the scrutiny she was receiving and remained silent, watching as the small rivulets of water running from her hair down her face hit the floor. It gave her something to focus on other than the pain in her broken body. After averting her eyes her gaze locked momentarily with Bra'tac's before he looked away, to the opposite side of the room. Upon hearing footsteps coming from the left she followed his line of sight and saw Zipacna entering the room via another door opening. Cold sweat broke out over Sam's skin at the sight of him.

The Goa'uld interrogator moved towards the dais and halted about three feet from the large throne, inclining his head respectfully to Apophis. " _Kel, Apophis?"_

" _Tel mak, kree er Tau'ri! Meg tal, ah,_ " Apophis said, glaring at Zipacna.

" _Rok tree nol!_ "

Their language was still alien to her but even she could tell Apophis appeared to be disappointed with his interrogator, almost as if he was scolding him and Zipacna sounded defensive. Some more seemingly heated words were exchanged until Apophis raised his left arm with the intricate golden bracelet on it and, much to Sam's surprise, the ruby covering his palm started to glow. It took her a moment to realize he wasn't actually wearing a  _bracelet_ ; it looked more like a metallic gold-colored glove and she recalled reading a description of a Goa'uld hand device that could throw someone across the room in some of SG-1's mission reports. Was this the same device?

Apophis suddenly rose from his throne, his cape swishing with his quick movements but after the younger man said something in a hushed tone, he seemed to rein in his anger and the ruby stopped glowing. " _Krelnok,_ " he said, his mouth a disapproving line. " _Shal tek_."

Zipacna appeared to be holding back a biting comment or two and nodded stiffly after a minute or two. " _Kel sha, Apophis. Lek tol._ "

Sam let out a small sigh of relief when he turned on his heels and left the room. Her gaze went back to Bra'tac but it seemed the First Prime was intent on ignoring her as much as possible. From the corner of her eye, she saw Apophis move again and turned to look at him. He was pacing in front of his throne, his eyes darting between her and the dozen Jaffa present. She kept her eyes to the floor hoping to appear less challenging while he did whatever it was he was doing. The younger man muttered something incomprehensible to which Apophis didn't verbally respond.

" _Jaffa_ ," Apophis spoke in his distorted voice, " _shal kek._ "

The Jaffa lining the walls all nodded in sync before leaving through the nearest exit but after exchanging glances with his 'God' Bra'tac stayed. The four Jaffa who'd brought her to the throne room were dismissed after a flick of Apophis' hand. Now, it was just her, Bra'tac, Apophis and the young man on the throne next to him. She couldn't help but wonder why he'd sent all the other Jaffa away. Maybe they weren't high-ranking enough to hear whatever she had to say and it wasn't like she could escape in her current condition, so Apophis wouldn't need them to guard her. Or perhaps he simply didn't want any other witnesses in case he would fail…

Apophis stepped off the dais and came to stand in front of her, looking down on her with a smug little smirk. This close she could tell he was wearing a ridiculous amount of eyeliner and some kind of gold-colored lipstick, which sort of fit with the rest of his gaudy look. "You are of the  _Tau'ri_ ," he said. "I am your God Apophis. This," he gestured towards the young man still seated on his throne, "is my son, the mighty warrior Klorel."

"My First Prime did well to bring you to us," Klorel said, with a nod to Bra'tac who accepted the compliment gracefully. "He said you claim your kind was merely exploring the planet on which you were found to observe its weather."

Sam nodded cautiously, her eyes darting between Bra'tac and Klorel. "That's right. Their extreme weather might give us a better understanding of similar phenomena on our own planet."

"Do you take us for fools, woman? That was not your true purpose; you are lying," Apophis said, his voice booming. "What of those who were with you?"

"O'Neill and the  _shol'va_?" Klorel demanded.

"The other Tau'ri left her when they fled through the  _chaapa'ai_ , my Lord," Bra'tac said.

Apophis spared him a glance before turning back to her. "The Tau'ri have protected their  _chaapa'ai_. How?"

"For a race that supposedly invented the stargate you're pretty clueless about it," Sam said defiantly, even though she was pretty terrified on the inside and barely managed to keep her hands from shaking.

He narrowed his eyes at her and roughly grabbed her by her hair. "During my previous harvest there was no such protection." He smirked, leering at her. "I retrieved a fair specimen from your planet. Unfortunately, she was unsuited for my queen."

Sergeant Kettering.

Sam hadn't known the Sergeant personally but she had read the report about Apophis, Teal'c and a handful of other Jaffa coming through the 'gate and abducting her after shooting up the gate room and killing the other SFs present. Upon returning from Chulak the team had confirmed she was dead, killed by Apophis according to Teal'c who had taken her dog tags and handed them over to General Hammond. Unfortunately, Teal'c hadn't been able to tell them much about why the Sergeant had been deemed unsuitable, only that the symbiote had rejected her before taking Doctor Jackson's wife, Sha're, as a host.

"We have sent Jaffa to your planet but they did not report on arrival. Our  _petsuawt_  were clearly ineffective as well since you continue to plague us. You are using some kind of shield," Klorel speculated as he rose from his throne, "perhaps operated by your  _kara'kesh_. We have seen your kind use it prior to entering the  _chaapa'ai_."

"The human did not have the large wrist device as seen on the other Tau'ri when she was captured, my Lord," Bra'tac said.

It took Sam's sluggish brain a moment to realize they were talking about the GDO every team was equipped with in order to send an identification code prior to entering the wormhole. She had helped design them after coming up with the idea of an iris to regulate who or what could and couldn't exit the wormhole at the SGC but because the bulky devices were expensive, most teams only had one or two at most – often worn by the team's commander or his 2IC. Sam was painfully reminded that even if she managed a miraculous escape it would be pretty much impossible to get home without a GDO. Of course, depending on what lies her commanding officer had told everyone after shooting her, she might not even be welcome back on Earth…

"Where is it?"

She swallowed hard when Apophis yanked her head back by her hair and stared up at him defiantly. "I didn't have one. My commanding officer wore it and he's long gone."

Klorel left the dais to join them and slowly circled her, his eyes on her the entire time. "How does it work? O'Neill's men had one when they invaded my father's base on Chulak and escaped with the  _shol'va_. It was," he paused, giving her an appraising glance as he seemed to search for a word, "too primitive for our understanding. What is the code you need to enter and how do you send it?"

"I don't know," she lied. "This was my first mission and I've never used a GDO before."

"You lie!" Apophis shouted, raising his gloved hand with its ruby glowing dangerously. "You will tell us how to disable your  _chaapa'ai_ 's shield!"

Suddenly there was some kind of energy stream coming from Apophis' ruby and it hit her square on the forehead. At first, it was a searing heat but soon it became  _hot_  and caused a piercing pain to reverberate through her skull. "Aaaaaahhh!" She screamed through gritted teeth as the pain became even more intense and it felt like her head was splitting in two.

Apophis laughed softly to himself and snapped off the device, his other hand still gripping her hair. "Now, you will tell us what we wish to know,  _Tau'ri_!"

"How do we disable the protection of your  _chaapa'ai_? Is it still in the same location as on my father's visit? How many  _petsuawt_  do we need to destroy the compound?"

Klorel's questions barely penetrated the haze of pain Sam was experiencing, her head pounding and sweat pebbling on her skin while she tried to breathe through the pain. She flinched when she felt cold metal on her skin, caressing her unscathed cheek but Apophis' hold on her hair meant she couldn't move away from the younger Goa'uld's hand against her face. Her heart started racing at their proximity, fear clawing its way up her spine as she realized she was completely at their mercy seated on her knees in front of them. Bra'tac was presumably still in the room with them but she couldn't see beyond the two Goa'uld standing in front of her to make sure, yet she knew not even he would come to her rescue. She forced herself to calm down, trying to regulate her rapid breathing to ease the ache of her protesting ribs and tried to recall the questions. "What? Chapai, Petsu-what? I don't even know what that means!"

"Insolence!" Apophis rewarded her with another attack of his hand device and didn't stop until she sagged onto the floor and he lost his grip on her.

She felt a small sense of satisfaction from the disgust on his face as he looked at the greasy blonde strands tangled in his golden glove while she lay in a sad little heap at his feet. Her whole body was protesting at the position but she simply didn't have the energy to get up. "I can't tell you what I don't know," she murmured softly, fighting to keep her eyes open.

Suddenly a pair of metallic boots came into sight; walking around to come up to Klorel's left. "My Lord, perhaps the female speaks the truth."

"Bra'tac?"

The old First Prime hm'ed in reply to his God's question and gestured at her. "She is weak and has barely eaten during her captivity yet she has provided us with answers."

"Nothing of use," Apophis scoffed in his distorted voice.

"The  _Tau'ri_  are foolish and inexperienced, many do not speak our language, my Lords." Bra'tac turned to her and kicked at her curled up legs. "Rise, human. Tell your gods about the  _Tau'ri_  stargate and how you have prevented our  _petsuawt_  – chests that burst into flames – from destroying your kind."

 _Bombs!_  Sam's breath hitched at the realization: they hadn't just sent Jaffa through, but also explosive devices and considering the damage their regular staff weapons and their spaceships could do, those bombs were probably as destructive as Earth's nukes! There was no way she could tell them how to circumvent or disable the iris! One of those Goa'uld bombs could probably destroy the mountain if not the entire state of Colorado – and there was no telling what kind of radioactive material they might be using!

God, she had never been a good liar but she knew it was time to come up with some convincing lies about the iris and GDO if they still had the one from the first mission to Chulak, especially if it was still working. Not talking would just make Apophis use his ruby ray or whatever it was again on her head and she wasn't sure how much of that she could take before she would give in! How many more times would it take for there to be permanent brain damage? Knowing the Goa'uld's sadistic nature they would probably manage to keep her alive but severely disabled, simply for their pleasure and that was not acceptable. "D-do you s-still have the GDO?"

" _We_  ask the questions, woman," Klorel said. To her surprise, he leaned down and grabbed her by her bad arm to pull her to her knees, ignoring her cries of pain. The Goa'uld remained on his haunches for a moment, his gloved hand caressing the smooth side of her face while he smirked at her. "And you will provide us with answers."

"The GDO you mentioned," she said breathlessly, trying to keep herself from falling over again or throwing up on him – neither of which she imagined this supposed god would appreciate.

"The wrist device belonging to O'Neill's team."

Sam nodded slowly, ignoring the warm fuzzy feeling inside at the thought of Jack. "It is used to send a code through an open wormhole to identify yourself before they open the iris on the other side to allow you through," she said.

 _The best lies are those closest to the truth, Sam._ Her father's words from years ago suddenly popped into her head.

"If you don't return within the mission's window your code is locked out of the system. The same goes for when you get captured or lose your GDO. It makes the code invalid and if you enter the wormhole regardless, you more or less get lost in transit. With every mission, you get a new code and every code is personal, as well as bound to the GDO you received. So, even if I knew my team's code, it would already be invalid by now and I wouldn't even be able to use your GDO to send it."

Klorel grabbed her chin roughly and pulled her face close to his. "For your sake, you would do best to tell us the truth,  _Tau'ri_."

"I am, I swear," she sputtered, eyes wide.


	18. Presentation

**Goa'uld Mothership  
Planet unknown**

Apophis threw Sam an appraising glance as he paced in front of her. "What other defenses do the  _Tau'ri_  have?"

"I thought gods were supposed to be omniscient," she muttered, unable to help herself.

Klorel, who had only just released her a few minutes ago, stormed towards her with his eyes glowing dangerously and grabbed her by the hair. "Insolence!"

"Ow!" Sam yelped as he hauled her to her feet with super-human strength, her injured ankle and broken toes protesting. Her body swayed dangerously but the young Goa'uld's hold on her hair didn't falter and kept her standing. The painful grip added to the splitting headache caused by the ruby ray and she briefly wondered whether it was possible for the device to melt her brain…

"We will attack your planet and enslave your people! I will show the other System Lords that I am more powerful and take what was once Ra's and rule the galaxy! They will all bow down to the god Apophis and his son, the mighty warrior Klorel!"

Klorel smirked at Apophis, before looking back at her. "You will help us,  _Tau'ri_ , or you will pay the consequences of defying your gods!"

"Why would I help you?" She questioned, wondering if they were crazy. They had already tortured her and upon threatening to destroy or enslave Earth they expected her to suddenly cooperate? "You might as well kill me now and get it over with. I'm not sure how much longer I can listen to this."

"We can send our armies through the  _chaapa'ai_  and kill everyone in the compound before conquering the planet. If you disable this iris you will be rewarded by your God," Apophis said.

She shook her head in denial. "I already told you that's impossible."

The two Goa'uld seemed amused by her response and Klorel used his free hand to gesture at the room they found themselves in. "You have seen this  _ha'tak_  when Bra'tac brought you here. It is far superior to the ones belonging to the other System Lords and soon the improvements to this one and my own will be finished. Then we shall travel to the  _Tau'ri_ and rid ourselves of the plague they have become."

"It is just a matter of time."

Sam swallowed hard at Apophis' words, knowing they were true: she had seen the giant pyramids the motherships used as landing platforms when she arrived on the planet and there was no way Earth could protect itself against an attack by one, let alone two of them. However, helping them disable the iris on this end was out of the question. Perhaps by refusing to cooperate she could give the SGC more time to prepare for the attack. It would take time to travel all the way to Earth, after all. She didn't know how fast these ships could travel but even if they could travel faster than light it was still a long way home!

At least, assuming they had moved into the opposite direction when she had been transported off P3X-425. It had taken weeks to reach the various locations she had been at since becoming a prisoner, so surely it would take at least a week or two to reach Earth, right? Maybe the SGC had miraculously acquired weapons capable of destroying Goa'uld motherships, shield technology like on P3X-425 or become allies with an advanced alien race? If only there was a way to warn them…

"Help us and you will be rewarded," Apophis reiterated.

"And if I don't, you'll kill me?"

Klorel chuckled softly, roughly yanking on her hair and using his free hand to caress her cheek. "It would be a waste to kill you." His eyes scanned her face before slowly moving down her body, his lips curling up. "We have various purposes for our human slaves…"

Apophis gave her a thorough onceover as well and even went so far as to circle around her. "If you refuse to give us the answers we want, you will be made  _netchemnetchemit_."

Their eyes on her made Sam's skin crawl and she felt a sense of dread at the look on Bra'tac's face. Even if she didn't understand the alien word the leers the two Goa'uld were giving her told her all she needed to know. Her knees buckled under her and the two Goa'uld were quick to jump away as she crumbled to the floor.

Suddenly, Bra'tac was standing over her and he helped her back on her feet at Apophis' command. He was gentler than she had expected and kept a hold on her uninjured shoulder. "My Lord, she is weak, even for a human."

"She will live," Apophis said coolly. "Long enough to pay for her insolence and see her planet's destruction."

She didn't want to know how they expected her to pay for it, not after the looks she had seen on all three of their faces. "W-what if I tell you what you want to know?"

The two Goa'uld exchanged glances before turning to her. "Perhaps I will make you a  _lo'taur_  and let you live after enslaving the  _Tau'ri_."

"Personal attendant, the highest rank for a human slave," Bra'tac explained Apophis' terminology in a hushed tone.

"Father," Klorel said, stepping closer to her. "Let me make the human my  _khenrȧ_." He reached out to touch her cheek again but when she turned away he caressed her neck instead and moved all the way down her chest, his hand trailing through the valley of her breasts to rest on her stomach. "A prestigious concubine in my harem."

Sam recoiled at the suggestion, bile rising in her throat. "I don't think so!" If a position in his harem was considered one of high esteem then she really didn't want to know what the other word meant, the one for when she  _wouldn't_  cooperate! "I'd rather die!"

"Are you certain you wish her for your  _khenȧ't_ , my son? Bra'tac was correct; she is weak and frail."

Klorel stared back defiantly at Apophis and held out his hand in his First Prime's direction. " _Nes_ ," he commanded. Bra'tac's reluctance was clear in the time he took to hand over a small knife but the Goa'uld didn't seem to notice.

She eyed the gleaming blade apprehensively and steeled herself when Bra'tac's hold on her tightened. Klorel moved and she gasped when he used the knife to cut open her tattered tank top in a swift move and pushed the fabric aside. She knew that aside from her pronounced ribs and hipbones, and concaved stomach her torso looked good in comparison to the rest of her battered body. The cool blade moved tauntingly over her pale skin until it reached the edge of her sports bra and even though she felt the heat rush up her neck and cheeks, Sam refused to struggle in Bra'tac's hold in the hopes of covering her body from the Goa'uld's scrutiny. Biting her lip as he sliced through the undergarment, she drew blood when the elasticized fabric fell away from her body, exposing her breasts to his prying eyes.

"Yes father," he said smugly. "Once she is healed, bathed and fed her beauty will outshine the other  _khent_."

"I won't do it," Sam said through gritted teeth. "I won't help you destroy my planet and I'll kill myself before I let either of you touch me!"

Apophis was quick to respond with his hand device, the energy beam from the glowing ruby penetrating her skull and overheating her brain. "Insolence! You will do as I say,  _Tau'ri!_ "

She fell to her knees again when the connection broke and barely managed to break her fall with her hands. Reaching up to her ears, she felt the stickiness of blood on her fingers and brushing her nose gently with the back of her hand left a smear of blood; clearly the effects on her brain went beyond mere pain. The chains of her cuffs were cold and rough against the bare skin of her chest and she took a moment to gather her strength before she looked back up. "I won't! I'll never help you! Go to hell!"

"Father, no!" Klorel grabbed his arm when Apophis aimed his hand at her again. "The  _Tau'ri_ provokes us because she wishes to die."

Sam wanted to cry when the two Goa'uld went back up to the dais to sit on their thrones; Klorel was right, she knew Apophis would continue to use the hand device on her and with another session or two he'd probably kill her in his rage. Unfortunately, his son seemed far too eager to make her the new addition to his harem or whatever other perverse options he had and saw through her actions. If the situation wasn't so dire she would laugh at managing to attract another one of the lunatic fringe on a different planet after Jonas Hanson!

The two Goa'uld seemed to be discussing her fate as she sat there, half-naked, dirty and in pain on the gleaming marble floor of their throne room. She was tempted to try and make a run for it, except she was exhausted from weeks of torture, malnutrition and wasting away of muscles and had no idea where she could go. There would undoubtedly be Jaffa in the corridors and she couldn't even recall the way back to her cell, let alone a way off this ship! And even though she had never been really shy about her body, she didn't think it was a good idea to go running around the ship half-naked with a bunch of evil Jaffa on her tail – who knew what they would do to her for her 'insolence'. She certainly wouldn't put it past Apophis or Klorel to hand her over to their brutal warriors like a plaything after the suggestions they had just made about her.

" _Tau'ri, kree!_ " Apophis said, interrupting her thoughts. "My son has convinced me you will be of no use to our attack if you refuse to tell the truth. I do not tolerate such behavior from my underlings!"

"My father will not reward you for your insolence," Klorel said, rising from his throne. She had felt a glimmer of hope until that moment, as he smirked at her with his piercing dark eyes. "However, we can learn all your secrets  _and_  get revenge on the Tau'ri by making you a host."

Sam's breathing hitched as he explained her knowledge of Earth would be theirs once she was implanted with his mate. That way she could do nothing to stop them from attacking her planet; the Goa'uld inside of her would even contribute to enslaving her people!

"O'Neill and the  _shol'va_  would hesitate before harming the host of my beloved," Klorel said, "much like they cannot bring themselves to kill my host.  _Bra'tac, to kel nebankh._ "

Bra'tac grabbed her by her uninjured arm and hauled her up before taking her chains in his hand. "As you wish, my Lord."

* * *

Bra'tac and two additional guards ended up escorting Sam to a smaller room. It was dominated by a large rectangular-shaped item of about ten feet long with rounded ends and its top looked to be made of gold decorated with hieroglyphs; it bore great resemblance to the descriptions of a Goa'uld sarcophagus and the few pictures she had seen of the destroyed one belonging to Hathor! She watched as one of the Jaffa did something to cause the sarcophagus' top to open. It parted in the middle and the two lids slowly slid outwards, revealing a sterile-looking interior lit by dim white light.

When the same Jaffa gestured for her to step in, she shook her head and took a step back. Bra'tac's hold on the chain between her cuffs meant she couldn't actually get away and she doubted she could win a tug of war with him. Not in her weakened condition, anyway. Still, he'd let the chain hang loose between them to give her some freedom of movement – which had allowed her to use the parted fabric of her top to cover her chest while being paraded through the ship's corridors – but soon she hit the dark blue curtain covering the wall and had nowhere left to go. "I don't want to," she said weakly.

"It will heal you, woman," Bra'tac said.

She stared at him wide-eyed. "Yeah, for them to make me a host!"

"It is the highest honor for a human to become a host for their God," the third Jaffa said, frowning at her.

"Well, in that case I'm sure they can find someone else who is just dying to become a prisoner in their own body! They only want me because they are not all-knowing and want my knowledge of Earth."

The other Jaffa looked puzzled by her reaction as well. "You speak nonsense,  _Tau'ri_."

Sam shook her head, reminded of what she'd read in some of SG-1's mission reports about the former host they'd met and what Daniel had told her about Sha're and Skaara. "The Goa'uld will repress the host's mind but for the most part they will be conscious of what their body is doing without their consent. I would be forced to witness the destruction of my people at my own hand without being able to stop it!"

"You were chosen," he simply said.

Bra'tac's dark eyes narrowed as he looked at her, as if gauging her words. "You will become Klorel's mate and the  _Tau'ri_  your slaves."

"No," she protested. "You can't expect me to… to become a Goa'uld and attack my own planet! I swore to serve and defend my country… I can't," her voice broke, her mind suddenly on her family and friends and what fate awaited them at the hands of Apophis and Klorel – and her own. If the Goa'uld could access her mind after implantation then they could strike Earth even more effectively, since they would know everything about its defenses because of her! She couldn't let that happen! Turning to Bra'tac she beseeched him with her eyes. "Please, kill me instead."

Klorel's First Prime stepped up to her, his hold on her chains tight. "I cannot. Why would I disobey my Gods for you, hm?"

"Please, if it gets in my head… they can't know," Sam whispered. God, she didn't even know if she could trust him and right now she was basically telling she had lied about not knowing anything! Then again, what did she have to lose at this time?

"Your pleas are futile, woman!" Bra'tac's tone was brusque and at first she was confused until she realized the other two Jaffa were watching them intently. Then, he lowered his voice to a whisper, his eyes flicking towards the sarcophagus. "It would revive you and the Goa'uld's punishment would be severe – for both of us!"

" _Tchaas Bra'tac,_ " one of the Jaffa said, calling for attention. "The human grows weaker. It is time."

He nodded curtly and pulled her away from the wall. "Indeed. Place her in it."

She only got a brief look at the conflicted expression on his face before the other two Jaffa reached out and grabbed her by the arms, hauling her off the floor and throwing her face-down into the sarcophagus. "No!" She screamed, but one of them kept her down with a boot on her back. Then she heard the sound of the sarcophagus' lids closing, almost like stone grinding on stone, and it became darker. "No, let me out! Don't do this, please!" Suddenly the weight on her back was gone but it took Sam too long to roll over in the cramped space and by the time she was lying on her back, the sarcophagus had closed and it was completely dark.

A low whine sounded, as if the device was charging up, followed by a sensation of heat. She tried to feel her way around but she was trapped, her hands finding only smooth and slightly warm walls and the lids appeared to be made of solid gold. They were too heavy to push up, scratching them was of no use and she couldn't even feel the seam where they parted upon opening, let alone pull the two lids apart.

Sam's heart was racing and her breathing shallow in response to her situation. She was literally imprisoned in a sarcophagus and had no idea how long it would take before she would be freed! The darkness was unsettling too and every unexpected sound and sensation frightened her. Was there even enough oxygen in the cramped space? Not one to give up, she explored her surroundings once more as best she could when a soft whirring sounded and her body temperature went up. "Oh god," she moaned when pain flared up at her injuries.

Completely unfamiliar with the device's working other than it being able to heal – and apparently revive – people, she hadn't known what to expect but still she was surprised when the heat radiated from her abdomen. She belatedly realized the cramping from the past two days had stopped and she let out a sigh of relief. However, before she could fully relax pain lanced through her injured ankle and shoulder wound. "Aaaahhh," she groaned through gritted teeth, trying to bear the pain without screaming.

In the end, she had no idea how long she had been in the sarcophagus – it could have been minutes or hours – when a white light started to glow around her, and the now familiar grinding noise sounded after she had experienced excruciating pain and flaring heat in all of her injuries. Every inch of her body was aching by the time the lids parted and the light from the torches in the room assaulted her eyes. Instinctively, Sam brought up a hand to shield her eyes and nearly smacked herself in the face with the heavy chain connecting her cuffs.

Before she could reorient herself, a hand grabbed her by the arm and hauled her out of the sarcophagus. She yelped in surprise when she landed roughly on her knees on the floor, only to realize she hardly felt any pain. Sure, the landing might have given her a bruise or two but aside from an overall ache, there was no pain anywhere else! Not even the pounding headache from Apophis' hand device!

Looking down at her left hand Sam saw smooth skin and despite her knowledge of the sarcophagus' abilities she was surprised. The infected and swollen wound from where her IV had been carelessly removed was gone! Her hands moved to her face only to discover there was no swelling, broken skin or fractures! There was no sign from the rank gunshot wound in her shoulder, either! Just unblemished skin, no scar and full range of motion of her arm and shoulder had returned!

Bra'tac pulled her up to her feet before she could complete her examination and he dragged her towards the corridors. Without paying much attention to where they were going she followed him sedately, still thinking about the wonders of the device. It was the metal clanking of Jaffa boots – a patrol moving through the hallways – that brought her out of her thoughts and made her cover herself as best she could with the ripped tank top. Only when she wrapped the fabric around her torso she was surprised at what she was feeling. Sam looked down at herself and nearly fainted at the sight of her healthy and toned frame – the sarcophagus had removed all signs of malnutrition and even restored her muscle tone!

It was simply amazing!

" _Ȧkhen_." Bra'tac stopped in front of a large door and turned the symbol to open it. "The harem."

Sam swallowed hard when the door opened, her muscles tensing in anticipation. Now that her body was miraculously back in shape, perhaps she could make a run for it? Fight her way out of here or die trying?

"Do not attempt to flee,  _Tau'ri_ ," he said, interrupting her train of thought. His grip was surprisingly strong as he tugged her into the large room. "There are guards within these walls, many more throughout the corridors of the ship and the pyramid itself is well guarded. They will harm you without second thought and Klorel and Apophis will punish you severely."

"But they won't kill me, right?" She asked in a resigned tone. "Or at least, they won't let me stay dead."

Bra'tac nodded curtly and made a hand gesture to encompass the room. "Here you will be prepared for the implantation ceremony."

For the first time she took a good look around, shocked at the number of women present. Most of them were staring in their direction, probably repulsed by the state of her clothes and lack of personal hygiene. However, they all seemed perfectly content to be there, dressed in their floaty white dresses, gauzy garments or fancy dress. Not one of them looked as if she was ready to bolt, but Sam figured that might be because of the armed guards and not necessarily due to their personal happiness at being stuck in a megalomaniac's harem.

* * *

Hours had passed when the doors of the harem opened to reveal Bra'tac and two burly men. Sam gave the newcomers a quick onceover, taking in their red and gold turbans, elaborate bejeweled gold collar, bare chests – without a Jaffa pouch – red and gold colored skirts and sandals and determined they were human slaves. Bra'tac's dark eyes scanned the group of women and it seemed to take him a minute to recognize her, which wasn't too surprising considering she didn't look like something the cat had dragged in anymore.

Some of the women had taken her away to be bathed after she'd been brought to the harem and her cuffs were removed but Sam had protested, wanting to do it herself. Before she knew it, one of the guards had shot her with a weapon that looked like a rearing serpent firing a bolt of blue energy, shocking her and knocking her out cold. By the time she had woken up, someone had literally scrubbed her clean and her tattered BDUs had been replaced with a flimsy white dress. Her hair had been washed, combed and dried and two of the women had been in the process of waxing her legs! She had bristled at the treatment but one warning glance in the direction of the guards had shut her up, reluctantly allowing the women to groom and prepare her for the implantation.

"It is time,  _Tau'ri_ ," Bra'tac simply said, before ordering the two burly men to grab her.

Sam struggled against their hold but they barely seemed to notice as they dragged her through the corridors. Soon she was out of breath, though. The sarcophagus may have healed her but she would need to work on her physical condition to get back in shape after weeks of nothing but torture. She was panting from all the walking when Bra'tac and the slaves finally escorted her into an opulently decorated room with a seating area, large buffet table, chests, candles, rugs and some other furniture. There was also a large sturdy-looking table in the center of the room, with some oil braziers and curtains flowing from the ceiling around it as if to create a more intimate atmosphere. She swallowed hard when she realized it was probably meant as an altar or something for her implantation.

Another door opened to allow Apophis and Klorel to enter and stand near the altar, along with four serpent guards – in full Jaffa battle gear, including helmets – each, in guarding position behind them. Clearly, they didn't think she was a threat and Sam figured they were there more for show to intimidate her than actual protection for these supposed gods.

It worked.

"Come," Apophis said, gesturing for Bra'tac and the human men to bring her closer.

She struggled when they placed her in front of the two Goa'uld, even though she was in no condition to actually fight – but she wasn't going to take this lying down, either. "Let me go!" She managed to elbow one of the human slaves in the stomach, followed by an uppercut to his chin and stomped on the other guy's foot, pushed his head down and kneed him in the face before Bra'tac and the other serpent guards all aimed their readied staff weapons on her. The two slaves recovered faster than she'd hoped and grabbed her roughly by the arms again.

"Full of life," Klorel remarked with a small grin, glancing from her to Apophis as if to prove him he'd been right about her.

"A lovely vessel for your queen, my son." Apophis raised his hand as if to use his wrist device on her again and Sam vaguely recalled reading about the incident report in the gate room where he had subdued Sergeant Kettering with his hand. The base's psychiatrist had suggested he had stunned her without actually paralyzing her, thereby keeping all her motor functions intact but basically removing her free will and making her extremely sensitive to suggestion.

Klorel, however, placed a hand on his arm, effectively stopping him. "No, father. She has spirit," he said, with a dirty little smirk, "and her struggles amuse me." Then, he turned to look at the two men holding her. " _Ḥau_!"

Sam barely registered their loosened grip on her before they suddenly ripped the dress off her body, leaving her completely naked. The slow onceovers both Goa'uld gave her turned her stomach but she refused to be embarrassed, instead raising her chin defiantly even though her cheeks were burning.

"Very nice," Apophis said, leering at her. "You chose well, my son."

"Before, her beauty was masked," he replied, reaching for her cheek with his gloved hand. "But it cannot be hidden from a true God!"

She flinched when the metal touched her cheek but with the two slaves' hold on her she had nowhere to turn to and had to endure his perverse caress. A grimace was impossible to suppress when his hand slid down her neck while he commented on her now unblemished fair skin, golden hair and  _khesbet_  eyes. Bile rose in her throat as he brushed the swell of her breast, partly in intimidation she guessed as the gold and ruby of his wrist device glinted in the light.


	19. Implantation

**Goa'uld Mothership  
Planet unknown**

Klorel was still faintly smiling when his gaze came back up and, with a jerk of his head, commanded the slaves to grab her. Suddenly, Sam was lifted off the ground by the two men but as she struggled – eliciting deep chuckles from the two Goa'uld as they watched her – she managed to get one leg loose, which spurred two of the serpent guards forward.

Together the four of them held her limbs in iron grips and easily carried her over to the altar and laid her down. They kept a hold on her, the Jaffa holding down her ankles while the humans pressed her wrists against the surface. Her hands were just above her head, stretching her frame slightly and making it more difficult for her to get loose. Klorel appeared in front of her, standing near her feet with his arms crossed in front of his chest. A quick glance around the room revealed Apophis on the other side of the room where he spoke to Bra'tac in low tones. Feeling eyes on her, she looked back up to see Klorel appraising her body as she lay there, helpless.

" _Pega_ ," he ordered the two serpent guards holding her ankles.

To her utter humiliation they obeyed without question, spreading her legs and exposing her to his gaze. Determined not to break down and cry she clenched her jaw and blinked against the tears welling up in her eyes. Klorel chuckled when a blush – a mix of anger and embarrassment – crept up her neck, the sound made even more unpleasant by the strange Goa'uld resonation. She tensed when he brushed his fingers against her leg, just above the serpent guard's hold on her ankle. His dark eyes seemed to twinkle with cruelty or perhaps what he'd referred to as amusement himself and she stubbornly held his gaze, unwilling to back off.

"The  _Tau'ri_  are foolish to send their women into battle," he remarked, as his caress went up to her knee. "O'Neill may have recruited the  _shol'va_  but now I shall take one of his women in retribution."

Sam's blush intensified at the implication of his words about Jack and knew Klorel had interpreted it correctly when he smirked smugly.

"You will be the perfect vessel for my queen and I shall enjoy taking her as my mate."

She resorted to clenching her fists to prevent from screaming when his hand continued to move over her skin, his fingers trailing slowly up her inner thigh and turned her gaze away when she couldn't bear watching him leer at her any longer. To her surprise, Apophis was standing only a feet or so from her head which made her feel even more nervous and Bra'tac was escorting a woman – a female Jaffa dressed in a flashy outfit, a lot of jewelry and a headpiece – over to the altar.

When Klorel's fingers moved higher Sam drew blood from her palms in spite of the manicure she'd undergone in the harem and decided to instead focus on her surroundings in the hopes of ignoring his strokes. She watched as the woman came to stand on her left, almost opposite Klorel now, and swallowed hard when she realized there was movement in the Jaffa's pouch. Her eyes searched the room frantically until they landed on Bra'tac but he quickly looked away and took up sentry position in the door opening on the right.

Determined to ignore the people around and the two Goa'uld leering at her she turned her gaze up to the ceiling and attempted to keep her breathing steady. It would only amuse the Goa'uld if she had a panic attack. Sam screwed her eyes shut and bit the inside of her lip as Klorel reached the apex of her thighs. It felt as if her world came to a standstill; she froze and swallowed against the bile rising in her throat as his fingers brushed her intimately. Tears escaped her closed eyelids and slipped into her hair despite her best efforts to hold them back. Blood was pounding in her ears, nearly drowning out the distorted chuckles around her.

" _Netcher_."

In response to Apophis' order the holds on her limbs tightened, the strong hands nearly crushing them against the surface as if they expected her to fight back or flee. For a moment, she feared what Klorel might do next but then his hand left her sensitive flesh. Her eyes flew open and she watched as his fingers moved through her small triangle of golden curls in an almost possessive manner, his eyes dark and a feral grin on his face.

It frightened her.

He dragged his warm hand up to her flat stomach leisurely, causing her abdominal muscles to jump at the touch. His eyes flashed briefly, clearly pleased with the reaction and Sam had to look away as he continued caressing her skin, slowly making his way up her torso. But as she turned her head to the left she gasped in shock; the female Jaffa's pouch had opened and the symbiote's head was peeking out!

"My queen." Klorel paused and listened to the creature's screeches before he moved his hand up to Sam's chest. "Does she please you,  _meriu_?"

The symbiote emitted a high-pitched noise and came farther out of the Jaffa's pouch, eliciting a grin from Apophis as well as his son.

Sam tried to recoil from Klorel's touch but she was being held down onto the table while he tauntingly trailed his fingers over her breasts, circling her taut nipples. After a cruel squeeze, he pulled his hand away and reached for the symbiote while she let out a sigh of relief. Then, all of a sudden, he placed the slimy creature on her abdomen and watched as it slithered up her torso. She grimaced in disgust at both the sight and sensation and her breathing sped up as it moved through the valley of her breasts and reared up on her sternum. "Oh my God, get it off me!"

"Indeed she is your God," Klorel said in his distorted voice as the creature screeched some more. He looked at both sets of guards holding her and nodded as he reached for the symbiote. " _Khekh_ _ṭ_."

Before she knew what happened they lifted her and turned her over, laying her on her stomach. With her cheek resting against the table's surface she had a clear line of sight on Bra'tac. His gaze was on her and it was clear he'd been watching the whole ceremony so far from the stoic look on his face. She briefly wondered how many times he'd been standing there while someone else underwent similar treatment but was jerked from her thoughts by a heavy hand landing on her back, followed by the slimy feeling of the symbiote.

Sam held her breath, waiting for something to happen. A moment later the creature slithered its way up her spine as Klorel slid his hand down to the swell of her ass in a possessive gesture – she shuddered in disgust. Bra'tac's narrowed eyes suddenly found hers and she decided to focus on him, rather than the Goa'uld. In the distance, she could hear Apophis say something –  _"Khaām!"_  – and she vaguely felt the pressure from the guards as well as Klorel's own hand intensify, pushing her flat against the table but she kept her gaze on Bra'tac.

"Aaaaahhhhh!" There was an unexpected excruciating pain in the back of her neck making her scream in agony while her back arched as she tried to escape the symbiote burrowing into her skin. Hands were all over her, pushing her down. Blood gushed out of her neck as the creature made its way in to wrap itself around her spine. Pain exploded inside her skull and she continued to struggle in vain until she was out of breath and on the brink of passing out.

All of a sudden, Sam's head snapped up and she lost control of her body. Her arms pulled at the hold the two human slaves had on her wrists and she found herself glaring at them in turn, before her mouth opened without her consent. " _Nemeth kree!_   _Tana-akal maltar. Jaya-nok-shol!_ " Her voice boomed around the room in that unnatural tone as the alien language flowed from her, even though Sam had no idea what it meant. However, the humans as well as the serpent guards holding her ankles removed their hands from her and jumped a few feet away, bowing their heads reverently.

Klorel's hand moved up to her shoulder and much to Sam's horror, she felt a frisson of pleasure at the touch even though the mere  _idea_  of him touching her was enough to make her sick! She belatedly realized her body's responses and actions weren't her own anymore as she suddenly sat up and took Klorel's hand to help her off the altar. The Goa'uld seemed supremely satisfied as he let his eyes roam her face and body. Sam wanted to flinch and pull away when he reached out and touched her neck, but instead she found her body leaning into his touch. In the back of her mind she also became aware of the open wound healing, albeit slowly.

"My queen," he said, brushing the blood from her skin. "Does the vessel please you,  _meriu_?"

"Yes, my pharaoh." Her lips curled up and she nodded briefly. "Gather the Jaffa and the humans. They shall bow down and show their reverence for me." On the inside, Sam was terrified and tried to scream and fight but her attempts were to no avail: the Goa'uld inside of her easily kept control and suppressed her consciousness to a small corner of her mind, forcing her to simply be an observer.

On Apophis' signal, one of his serpent guards left the room, presumably to call everyone else. Bra'tac escorted the female Jaffa to the room from which she had come and Sam knew the woman would receive a new symbiote or die now that her purpose had been served. On the other side of the room, a serpent guard opened another door, allowing entry to over a dozen fancy dressed women, both humans and Jaffa.

Suddenly she felt a weight on her shoulders and became aware of Klorel placing a piece of clothing on her. Her instinct was to recoil from him and do it herself but nothing happened; her body simply remained standing, allowing him the opportunity to dress her. At first, she thought it was a cloak but then he pulled it over her front and fastened it, resulting in a gaudy wrap-around dress. Apparently, her nudity was necessary as a human, but not a host.

Soon, the whole room was filled with Jaffa – warriors, priests, priestesses, concubines – and humans of various ranks, while Klorel stood at her side, holding her hand and Apophis was off to his left. Bra'tac was standing a little to the right of the group and thumped the floor with his staff weapon.

" _Benna! Ya wan ya duru!_ Kneel before your masters!"

Upon his shout, everyone except the Goa'uld and Sam kneeled down and she felt an odd sense of satisfaction that wasn't hers course through her veins. " _Tel kol, Jaffa._ _Mak tal shree! Lo tak Herit, met_ _ḥent en Klorel, sa't en Apophis_ _!_ _Re nek, Herit!"_ The alien words easily rolled off her tongue, only adding to her fear and confusion. "I am Herit, goddess of the heavens, mate of the mighty warrior Klorel and daughter of the serpent god Apophis. Hail and worship me!"

Klorel smirked at her before turning back to the crowd. " _Re nek, Herit!_ "

" _Re nek, Herit_ ," Apophis reiterated smugly. "Bow down now and show me your reverence for my daughter."

* * *

 **Stargate Command**  
**Colorado Springs, CO**  
**September 21, 1997**

The funeral service and subsequent reception for Captain Carter –  _Sam_  – two days ago had lasted all afternoon and afterwards General Hammond had suggested they – Hammond, Daniel, Catherine and Jack – went for dinner with Sam's dad, Major General Jacob Carter. Jack hadn't been sure whether the man would welcome it or prefer to be on his own, but it seemed Hammond had managed to convince his old friend to join them. The atmosphere had been somewhat tense and saddened for most of the evening but Jack knew that might have just been him; he still had trouble accepting that his Sam was Captain Carter and he'd felt uncomfortable spending so much time in her father's presence considering the night they'd spent together. But it seemed the meal and reminiscing about Sam – mostly by Daniel and Catherine – had done General Carter good and at the end of the evening Hammond had taken his old friend home, while the rest of them went back to their hotel.

The sun had barely risen when they'd all gotten up for their flight back to Colorado yesterday morning, where everyone had to get back to work. Jack had briefly checked in on the other half of his team and was pleased to find both Teal'c and Kershaw in the gym. The Jaffa had been doing some martial arts while the Lieutenant was doing some exercises under the watchful eye of her physical therapist. Apparently, Doc Fraiser had just cleared her before Jack's arrival on the condition that she would get approval from her PT as well. All had gone well and SG-1 was ready to go back into the field, much to his relief.

After the brief detour to the gym, Jack had gone down to the briefing room where he had a meeting with General Hammond and Colonel Makepeace from SG-3. Due to the funeral service both Hammond and he himself had been away, leaving Makepeace as the next highest ranking officer in charge of the base. The Marine had been giving his report on the events for about an hour now while Jack was doodling on his notepad, listening with half an ear. Fortunately, the meeting seemed to be coming to an end, which meant Jack could tell Hammond his team could go back on the mission roster.

"… and SG-4 returned safely as well, like I already told you over the phone, Sir," Makepeace said. "Their debriefing is scheduled for this afternoon and I think that's about it."

"Very good, thank you, Colonel. If there's anything else I'll know where to find you. Dismissed," the General said, getting up.

The Marine rose from his chair, giving both of them a curt nod in acknowledgment. "Yes Sir. Jack."

"Makepeace," he replied, returning the nod.

"Let's move this to my office, Jack."

He followed Hammond and took a seat in one of the chairs at the desk when his CO gestured for him to do so. "Doc Fraiser has cleared Kershaw for active duty, Sir," he said.

The General leaned back in his chair and reached for a folder on his in-tray. "That's good to hear. Do you think Doctor Jackson is ready to go out into the field?"

"Yeah, Daniel's good. Losing a friend is tough and I know he was a bit emotional at the service, but I know he's ready," he said. "You know how he is, Sir. He prefers to be out there looking for ways to beat the Goa'uld and find Sha're and Skaara."

"And Captain Carter?"

Jack shrugged but knew the shrewd look in his CO's eyes meant Hammond was aware of his own personal mission. "There's a chance she's still alive, Sir… A small chance, but a chance nonetheless. There's no harm in keeping our ears to the ground and if that happens to lead to information about the whereabouts of Sha're, Skaara or Carter then maybe we can get them back."

"When I drove Jake home last night, we had some drinks and talked some more. He mentioned you told him about Sam and asked me if you'd worked together," he said slowly. "But I know for a fact that she was already off-world by the time you got back to base that day. Normally, I might have thought you were simply being nice but I know you, son, and what you said about her to Jacob suggested you  _did_  know her. I don't know how your paths could have crossed considering your different contributions to the Program and how you both worked from different states, but please tell me you did not lie to me about never having met her."

"I didn't, Sir."

He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward on his desk, gauging him. "Because if you let your personal feelings for her cloud your judgment in the investigation or, worse, accused Lieutenant Colonel Grieves based on unfair prejudice…"

Rubbing the back of his neck Jack grimaced, wondering how he could explain it. "I didn't lie. Well, not really. Not consciously," he amended after Hammond's glare. "I didn't know anything about Captain Carter during the investigation other than what you, Daniel and Catherine told me."

"But…?" The General motioned for him to elaborate. "I really doubt you met her  _after_  the investigation into her death."

"Last week, when you went to DC for meetings about the budget, the Carter investigation and our suspicions about an attack on Earth by Apophis, I looked into Carter's file because I figured I should familiarize myself with it in case I would run into her relatives at the funeral. It was only when I saw her picture that I realized I, um, knew her," he said. Raising a hand, he tried to forestall more questions and decided to give a half-truth. "I know that sounds strange, but I'm telling you the truth, Sir. Turns out, Carter and I bumped into each other a few weeks ago when I was in DC to give a report about the Hathor situation to the brass. We hardly talked about work, just played some pool and had a few drinks. I only recalled her first name, so I never made the connection."

General Hammond took a moment to process the new information, his shrewd eyes never leaving Jack's face. "And that's all?"

He shrugged, aiming for casual indifference because he wasn't planning on telling anyone about the night that followed said games of pool. "More or less, yeah. I still think there's something off about Grieves and I don't trust him to lead a team. As a matter of fact, I think we should get a better screening process for the Program, Sir," he added. "First there was that lunatic Hanson and now Grieves? Hell, even if we were to believe the man's story then somehow no one had noticed how unsuitable Captain Carter was for off-world missions. Either way, we need to improve our selection methods."

"I've already broached that subject with the JCS, Colonel. Believe me, we're  _all_  in agreement about that. As for Lieutenant Colonel Grieves; we have no solid evidence against him. The bullet with the Captain's blood on it didn't match any of the sidearms brought back by SG-7, which means we can't proof he was the one who shot her. For now, we'll keep the team benched and keep an eye on him while they all undergo further training and some mandatory sessions with MacKenzie."

"The shrink?"

Hammond smirked deviously. "Standard protocol when losing a teammate. They each need to be cleared by Doctor MacKenzie before they'll be allowed back on active duty. In the meantime, we'll keep looking for other candidates just in case they won't pass their psych evals."

Jack nodded slowly. On one hand, he was pleased to learn Grieves wouldn't be sent out there again anytime soon, but on the other hand he really wanted there to be repercussions for the man because he was pretty damn sure the guy had shot his own 2IC. "Maybe we can also send another team to P3X-425 to talk to the natives? Get their side of the story and all that."

"So far the data from the MALP indicates it's too dangerous to send people through; there was too much damage from either the storm or the volcano's eruption. But we'll keep trying."

"Good," he said. "At least their 'gate is still standing. I just hope there are still people around, because it would be great if they could tell us what happened to the device that was supposed to keep their village safe from natural disasters. I would like to volunteer SG-1 if you give the planet a green light, Sir."

The General browsed through the folder he'd grabbed earlier. "I'll take that under consideration. In the meantime, I'll put your team back on the mission roster, starting with this planet: P3R-233. The briefing and mission itself are scheduled for tomorrow, oh eight hundred hours. The MALP data gave some interesting readings so perhaps you could go over it with Doctor Langford and ask her to join the briefing if necessary, Colonel."

* * *

**Goa'uld Mothership  
Planet unknown**

Once the hailing, revering and prostrating had been finished the Jaffa and human slaves were sent away, but Apophis and Klorel stayed with Sam. She remained helpless while the symbiote – Herit – walked around the room as if she owned the place as well as Sam's body. Nothing Sam tried had been successful; she was locked inside her body as Herit controlled everything from speech to movement. The only thing that still seemed to be her own were her thoughts, even though her mind had to be shared with the Goa'uld! She could see her arm move and often felt the tactile sensations from touching someone or something but had no control over said arm. It was frustrating and frightening, as if she was watching herself through someone else's eyes!

Apophis had started talking to her and every now and then Klorel chimed in, but Sam had been unable to decipher what they were saying since the language was completely alien to her. She had startled when she heard her own voice, momentarily thinking she had regained control over her speech until she realized Herit had simply chosen to speak in her normal voice, rather than the distorted Goa'uld tone. At some point Sam watched as her hands moved over alien technology and the three Goa'uld started discussing what she had conjured up on a screen. Almost everything was written in hieroglyphs but Sam's military mind had been able to deduce it was a plan of attack and some sort of overview of part of the galaxy – Apophis' domain, perhaps?

However, soon after Apophis and Klorel presumably started briefing Herit on the state of the galaxy and their undoubtedly evil plans for it, Sam became aware of something else: pain in her abdomen. The Goa'uld inside of her faltered and Sam knocked over one of the cups on the table when she momentarily regained control of her arm! It didn't last long, though. Herit quickly reasserted control over Sam's body and gave her what felt like a huge migraine to deal with, leaving her to scream soundlessly in her own mind. Shortly afterwards Herit excused herself, claiming she needed to regain her strength in the sarcophagus – Sam recognized the words from when she had been sent there.

Now, Herit was making her way through the ship, heading for the room in which the sarcophagus was stored. Six serpent guards and two human slaves followed her at a respectful distance but Sam could feel their eyes and those of the Jaffa they passed in the corridors on her. She felt vulnerable covered only in the wrap-around dress which didn't leave much to the imagination and even just having some underwear would make her feel a whole lot better, but in her experience the Goa'uld didn't care much for undergarments – and she couldn't even wrap her arms around herself!

By the time they reached the sarcophagus the pain in her abdomen had intensified but Herit remained firmly in control this time, walking with her head high and pretending everything was alright, even though the Goa'uld had to notice the abdominal cramps and wetness Sam felt on her thighs. Her mouth opened and alien commands were issued in that distorted tone without her volition. The two female slaves hurried away while the serpent guards took up position in the small room, clearly intent on guarding her while she went into the sarcophagus. When she sat down Sam spotted a small bloodstain on her inner thigh before Herit shifted the fabric of the dress and lay down in the machine.

The lids had barely closed or her body relaxed and a voice spoke inside of her mind. 'Your resistance is futile,  _Tau'ri_. Soon your feeble mind will submit to me and you will cease to exist. Surrender now and spare yourself further suffering at my hands.'

Stunned, it took Sam a moment to respond while her surroundings darkened as the sarcophagus started working. 'I don't believe you!'

'Nothing of the host survives,' Herit responded calmly.

'That's a lie! Some of my people have met a former host who got rid of her Goa'uld and she was fine!'

There was a brief pause during which she could feel the Goa'uld probing her mind, searching for the memories. 'If a host serves their God well they may be rewarded with their freedom in the end. It costs us greatly but as Gods we can be benevolent and leave them intact when we change hosts.'

'You're not a god! The Goa'uld are nothing more than parasites, opportunistic creatures who take what they need at the expense of the host.'

'Call us what you wish but the fact remains that we are seen as omnipotent and omniscient beings with supernatural powers, believed in and worshiped by people throughout the galaxy which we rule. Is that not the  _Tau'ri_  definition of a God?'

Sam bristled at the arrogant statement. 'Without a host you're nothing more than a screeching snake-like vertebrate and if it weren't for humans or Unas, or even Jaffa, you'd spend your life in a murky lake or tank!'

'Perhaps,' Herit said pensively. 'Yet without us the Unas are a primitive species, cowering in their caves and only venturing outside for food. We took them to explore and conquer the galaxy. Without the Goa'uld they would not have become the mythical creatures feared by even the greatest Jaffa. Then we found the humans, gave them a purpose and made them more than they once were; we gave them tools to build us temples, pyramids and spaceships and a god to worship. We created the Jaffa solely to serve and incubate us to improve our ability to take human hosts. Without us there would be no Jaffa, and humans and Unas would have remained the primitive creatures they were before we took them.'

'And that gives you the right to enslave people and use humans as hosts?'

'Is it any different from how humans use animals? Humans believe they have the right to use or kill them simply because they are superior. The Goa'uld are superior to humans and therefore, by your own logic, we may do as we please with your kind.'

'But you're not superior,' she argued heatedly.

Herit laughed aloud, a disturbing sound in the small, enclosed space. 'If I am not superior then how is it I am able to control your body, Samantha?'

'That's because you're a parasite attached to my brainstem!'

'True, but this would imply you are a puppet whose strings I can pull. Yet my control of your body exceeds those of a mere puppeteer! My superiority gives me the ability to control every process in your body, from your senses and movement down to what you would call the cellular level.'

Sam felt the uncharacteristic need to lash out at the Goa'uld, her anger at the situation growing and there was nothing she could do about it! It was disturbing enough to have the parasite control her body's actions and experience sensations through Herit – like pleasure at Klorel's touch – but apparently the control ran much deeper than they had suspected. She gave herself a quick mental shake and decided to find out more in the hopes of discovering a weak spot or, even better, a way to get rid of Herit. 'Maybe,' she said slowly, drawing out the word, 'but you're not as all powerful as you claim to be… you faltered earlier and I managed to regain control!'

'Momentarily,' Herit corrected. 'And your feeble mind was easily dominated again.'

'It may have been only a moment this time but I now know it's  _possible_. Next time it could be a few seconds longer, then minutes, hours and eventually days during which  _I_  am in control of my own body!' Sam said triumphantly, already trying to figure out how to accomplish this so she could get the parasite removed. When Major Kawalsky had been taken over by a Goa'uld at the beginning of the Program the doctors had done their best to find a way to surgically remove it but in the end they had failed – and Kawalsky had died. But maybe there was a chance for her, Sam, now that the SGC had more knowledge of the Goa'uld and allies throughout the galaxy! Of course, that meant she would have to overpower Herit for long enough to find a way home, convince everyone Grieves had lied and she wasn't a traitor before they'd shoot her and then explain her situation so they could attempt to remove the snake all before Herit would regain control…

'No!' Herit's shout was accompanied by another surge of pain, undoubtedly to punish Sam for her insolence. 'I am the daughter of the Serpent God Apophis and the mate of the mighty warrior Klorel! I am stronger than you,  _Tau'ri!_  The only reason I faltered before was because I was unaware of your condition.'

Sam mentally frowned and immediately her newfound optimism dwindled. 'My condition?'

There was a brief pause and she could sense Herit's amusement as the parasite realized she knew something Sam didn't. 'You are with child.'

'Wi-  _what?!_ I'm _not_ pregnant!' One of the few things she'd feared during her captivity was rape but so far she'd been spared that fate and there simply was no way… Jack! The memory of him with ruffled hair, sleepy eyes and a sexy grin came to her mind unbidden. 'No, that's not possible,' she said softly. 'That was weeks ago, months probably!'

'Indeed.'

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess and Sam had a hard time believing the Goa'uld. It was true the condom had torn but she was on the pill and had been for  _years_! In spite of the hectic morning after she had made sure to take the pill before gearing up for her mission to P3X-425… 'Oh God!' After exiting the wormhole, she had been sick and it was possible the pill had accompanied her breakfast when she'd thrown up. Still, that was only one pill she had 'skipped' then and they often said it would take months if not a year or longer for a woman's menstrual cycle to restore to normal after years of taking birth control pills. Of course, there were always exceptions…

'It would appear you are one of those exceptions, Samantha,' Herit commented unhelpfully. 'After all, your body managed to maintain this pregnancy throughout the abuse you suffered at the hands of Kah'l and Zipacna all this time.'

Sam was still rewinding events from the last few days prior to her capture through her mind when she realized something else: without pills she  _could_  have ovulated and the antibiotics she'd injected herself with were known to interfere with birth control pills. If the condom hadn't done its job she could even have conceived a day or two later considering the lifespan of sperm… 'Pregnant,' she muttered to herself, feeling confused and terrified at the same time.

'For now.'

'What do you mean?'

The Goa'uld shrugged indifferently. 'Your unborn child will die soon as your body cannot host both of us.'

'No!' The word had slipped out before she even realized, surprising both herself and Herit.

'You wish to have this child?'

Sam had no idea what she wanted but she could tell Herit found all this amusing, no doubt because the parasite wouldn't give her a choice. The thought of losing the baby –  _Jack's_  baby – growing inside of her upset her more than she'd expected, especially since she had never given kids a lot of thought and wouldn't even have known she was pregnant if Herit hadn't told her. 'I'm sure you can't wait to kill it,' she said bitterly, refusing to give the Goa'uld the satisfaction of showing her how much she cared.

'If Klorel had not placed you in the sarcophagus to heal in preparation for my implantation the child would have already been lost.'

Now she realized why she'd been suffering from abdominal contractions so long after Zipacna used the pain stick on her the last two times! It also explained the blood she'd washed away that evening; at the time she thought she was either suffering from internal bleeding or having her period at the most inopportune time. Pregnancy, let alone miscarriage, hadn't once crossed her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little reminder to everyone that the nomination period for the SJMA has begun: you can nominate your favorite shippy fanart, fanfiction and fanvids for a Sam and Jack Multimedia Award throughout the month of July!


	20. Ceremony

**Goa'uld Mothership**   
**Planet unknown**

There was something utterly delightful in the confusion and fear her host was experiencing, Herit thought. From the memories passed on to her by her ancestors, she knew about taking hosts and suppressing their minds but she had underestimated how enjoyable it was. She idly wondered how long the thrill would last. Klorel was still experiencing some resistance from his first host she knew, but would her father's host, thousands of years old, still be entertaining or had his struggles only lasted shortly?

Samantha Carter was fighting her and admirably so, which intrigued her. Herit wanted to know what the human was guarding so fiercely and chuckled when Samantha started reciting what she called a periodic table upon her prodding.  _This one is smart, for a Tau'ri female._

From what her brother and father had told her about the  _Tau'ri_ , Herit suspected they sent their most intelligent and what they called courageous - foolish - soldiers through the  _chaapa'ai._ The one she inhabited now was certainly remarkable as far as she could tell. Strong for a human, both in body and mind. Uniquely beautiful as well - Klorel chose well, as he had promised before they had first been split up. She suspected the  _Tau'ri's_  appearance was unusual since most humans in the galaxy were taken from one specific area of their planet back when her father Apophis had first ruled.

Herit had seen her father's subjects bow down to worship her upon taking control of Samantha's body and knew from her queen mother's memories that it would be similar all through the galaxy. Yet, her very own host was most insolent. Spirited and defiant as well. She would enjoy tormenting Samantha Carter until she broke, Herit decided.

'Do you understand, Samantha?'

'No…'

Herit sighed and let her exasperation bleed into the  _Tau'ri_ 's consciousness. 'I have explained this to you before. For someone considered brilliant by their kind, you are most obtuse.'

'But why are you offering this?'

'I am not  _offering_  anything, Samantha. I am merely explaining to you what will happen and what I expect from you. If you disappoint me, I will be forced to punish you.'

Thoughts scattered and emotions conflicted, Samantha tried to push back at her control. 'But why, what's in it for you? What is the catch?'

'There is no 'catch',' she said, impatience crawling up her spine at the  _Tau'ri'_ s suspicions and probing. Perhaps a different tactic was required… 'Why do you believe I would wish to harm a child?'

'You're a Goa'uld.'

'I believe we already established that.'

Samantha struggled with her preconceptions and the given situation. 'But doing this would mean I am in complete control.'

'As long as I will allow it, yes.'

Confusion prickled at the back of her mind. 'Then, why? You took me as host and-'

Herit mentally shrugged and aimed for an open tone, to prevent the  _Tau'ri_ from discovering her true intentions. 'We were unaware of your condition at the time.' The revelation had certainly taken Samantha by surprise and Herit had taken advantage of the situation, by digging into her host's memories and discovered the Jack who had fathered the child was none other than that  _Tau'ri_...  _O'Neill_. The  _shol'va'_ s new master.

The discovery had made Herit giddy. She knew how pleased Klorel had been to learn Samantha was one of O'Neill's women, because it was a fitting punishment for the  _Tau'ri's_  defiance and would torment him the way her father taking the two Abydonian hosts for Klorel and Amaunet had. To have his offspring... Oh, the possibilities!

'You seemed to have no problem terminating earlier,' she said, accusingly.

'I was… taken by surprise.'

'And you would just give up control for the baby?'

'For the duration of gestation, yes. As you remarked earlier, I am a Goa'uld. I waited nearly eight of your years to take a host and I will have thousands more with you; I can give you this remaining time.' Sensing the  _Tau'ri's_  disbelief, Herit dug a little deeper. 'Did you know that my father's host comes from what you now call Egypt? Thousands of your years ago. That is what awaits you too, Samantha.'

She bristled at that. 'How can you expect me to bring a child into this world?'

'You wish for me to terminate?' Herit asked, frowning. The child would offer the perfect leverage for O'Neill and once they'd captured him, well, they could torment him endlessly with his offspring's fate. She could force him and Samantha to betray their own people in return for not harming the child. It would give her the opportunity to present Klorel and their father with the  _Tau'ri_  homeworld without its defenses. Oh, the guilt would chip away at the two humans'  _kalach_ until their futile resistance would finally crumble.

Apophis and Klorel would reward and praise her for her ingenuity. Now, all Herit wanted was for Samantha to choose to  _keep_  the child. It would require her to relinquish control because it was impossible for a human body to host a Goa'uld and a child, but the reward would be worth it. The sarcophagus could be used to converse with Samantha and ensure she was upholding her part of the agreement. Herit had waited nearly eight years to take a host, she could wait a little longer for full control if it resulted in O'Neill's offspring. And Samantha... well, having the child's fate in the hands of Herit and Klorel would break the spirited  _Tau'ri_  once and for all.

'No! Wait-'

'Very well.' Herit was relieved the  _Tau'ri_  had already become attached to the child growing within but dared not show it. 'I will allow you to be in control when the sarcophagus opens once more. Then, you must undergo the Rite of  _Un_ _Ḥ_ _er_ _Ȧ_ _m Setcherit_  to submit to Klorel.'

'Because I'm a woman?'

'Goa'uld take on the gender of their host, although some will identify either as male or female after possessing hosts of both genders. An alliance can be struck between two powerful Goa'uld and when it concerns two mates, they undergo the Rite of  _Un_ _Ḥ_ _er_ _Ȧ_ _m Setcherit_  to prove their loyalty.'

'And it's the female who has to submit to the male?'

Herit was becoming irritated again. The  _Tau'ri's_ notions about female inequality bored her. 'The Rite of  _Un_ _Ḥ_ _er_ _Ȧ_ _m Setcherit_  stems from thousands of years ago, when the Goa'uld took their first hosts.'

'The Unas,' Sam replied. 'Hence the primitive ceremony.'

The sarcophagus made a soft whirring sound, alerting them to its powering down. 'Oh, Samantha,' Herit chuckled, 'I was looking forward to you experiencing the Rite of  _Un_ _Ḥ_ _er_ _Ȧ_ _m Setcherit_  but I suspect I might enjoy it even more now that you must undergo it while fully in control.'

Slowly, she started relinquishing control as the sarcophagus finished its cycle, amused at the revulsion she sensed from Samantha at the thought of mating with Klorel. 'Remember, you cannot tell Klorel the truth until you are bound together. We will speak again afterwards, in the sarcophagus. Oh, and Samantha? You would do best to  _prepare_  yourself for the ceremony. It would not do for this body to be damaged when I cannot heal it,' Herit added, before falling silent.

Overwhelmed by the sensations she was experiencing again, Samantha sat up and rested her face in her hands. "Holy Hannah…"

"My Lady?"

She looked up to find two Jaffa staring at her. "Uh," she blinked rapidly. "I need to prepare for the Rite of  _Un_ _Ḥ_ _er_ _Ȧ_ _m Setcherit_."

* * *

Sam stood in front of something resembling a mirror, eyeing her reflection. The time in the sarcophagus had completely healed her injuries but still, she hardly recognized herself. Her face looked drawn and her eyes troubled. The last time she'd looked in a mirror, her hair had been regulation length but now it brushed her shoulders. Attendants – human slaves - had braided her locks, turning them into a blonde version of Cleopatra's hairstyle. The makeup wasn't far off, either: some sort of rouge stained her cheeks and lips, and heavy eyeliner made her blue eyes pop.

Sighing, Sam untied the flimsy white dress she was wearing and let it fall open. The sarcophagus' healing powers really had done wonders, because her body looked exactly as she remembered from before… Her gaze stopped to rest on her abdomen. Still toned and flat – for now.  _Pregnant_. Hesitantly, she raised her hand and placed it on her belly. It didn't feel any differently. But Sam knew Herit had been telling the truth, otherwise she couldn't be in control of her own body now.  _Your body cannot host both of us_. The Goa'uld's words echoed in her head and she could feel panic welling up. Balling her free hand into a fist, she focused on the feeling of fingernails digging into her palm to clear her head.

For now, she had to keep up the pretense of being a host in front of everyone. Herit had taken great pleasure from explaining the details of the ritual to her earlier in the sarcophagus, so Sam knew what was expected from her. She felt sick to her stomach over the idea of having to become Klorel's mate but there was no getting out of it. Not without alerting everyone to the truth and then what would happen?

Sighing, she grabbed a nearby chair and sat down. The ceremony itself was bad enough but she knew the part about having sex with the Goa'uld would be horrible, especially if she was unprepared. Another thing that had amused Herit. Shifting in her seat, Sam let the dress fall open again and spread her legs. She reached out and touched her cheek with her fingers. She kept the contact feather light, almost feeling disconnected from it. Slowly, she moved farther down, caressing her neck and stroking the swell of her breast. Much to her surprise, her body reacted and her nipples hardened.

"Maybe I  _can_  do this," she muttered to herself. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and imagined it was someone else touching her. Jack's hand cupping her, kneading her breast and playing with her nipple… She tried to remember what it had been like that night in his hotel room, but it felt like a lifetime ago. A memory here and there came to mind, but most of it was like a blur. Using her imagination, she continued her ministrations and slipped her free hand between her legs to touch herself more intimately. The circumstances made it difficult for her to focus on pleasuring herself but she could feel some wetness gathering…

Sam quickly pulled her hand away when she heard noises coming from the corridor. A glance at her reflection in the mirror had her righting her dress and she quickly got up when someone banged on the door. Taking a deep breath, she schooled her features and called out to whomever it was to enter.

"It is time, my Lady," Bra'tac said upon entering the chambers, inclining his head.

"Right," she said. "Um, lead the way."

He cast her a strange look before nodding in assent and swiveling on his feet, heading back the way he'd come.

Sam followed him, trying to look as regal and arrogant as possible as they made their way through the corridor. Some other Jaffa were behind her, probably to protect her. Or maybe to give off the impression that she was important. Either way, she was glad for the escort because they were entering an unfamiliar area of the ship and she had no idea which way to go. It didn't take long for them to reach their destination, though. The room was spacious with a crowd of different people. She recognized the traditional Jaffa, but there were also some robed Jaffa with a shiny forehead tattoo, fancy-dressed humans –  _lo'taurs_  perhaps – Zipacna, Kah'l and scantily-clad human women.

Heart hammering in her chest, Sam walked to the raised platform where the ceremony would take place. Would she be able to fool all these people into thinking Herit was still in control? Her instincts were screaming at her to run, but she knew that wasn't an option. Where would she go? They'd capture her before she had even made her way back to her chambers, never mind escape the ship. Not to mention the consequences of an escape attempt…

Swallowing hard, she looked around. Bra'tac was standing off to the side, his dark gaze still on her. She could feel everyone's eyes on her and just knowing those bastards Zipacna and Kah'l were present made her sick to her stomach. They were all here to witness the ceremony and Sam was terrified.

" _Tel kol_!" Apophis entered the room, followed by Klorel and suddenly everyone's attention was on them.

Sam's nails dug into the palm of her hand as the two Goa'uld approached her and she had to remind herself why she was planning on going ahead with this. If they discovered she was faking it, they'd make sure to find a way to get Herit back in control of her body. The Goa'uld inside of her would punish her by causing a miscarriage  _and_  would eventually get access to all the information Sam had on Earth and its stargate. That simply wasn't acceptable. Steeling herself, she smiled at Klorel as he stopped in front of her.

" _Meriu_ ," he said, lifting a hand to touch some of the tiny braids before caressing her cheek.

She had to fight herself not to flinch at his touch or the predatory smile on his face as his black eyes took her in from head to toe. Recalling Herit's earlier words to him, Sam leaned into his touch and replied, "My pharaoh."

Apophis smirked at both of them before turning his gaze towards the gathered crowd. "Bra'tac."

"My Lord." Bra'tac used his staff weapon to thump the floor thrice on Apophis' signal. " _Kree_!"

" _Tai'_ _ȧ sa Klorel_ _ḥer_ _ā tai'f met_ _ḥent,_ _tai'_ _ȧ sa't_ _Herit, shep_ _ȧṭen er_ _tai'u ta_ _ā_ _n't ent_ _ṭemȧ_ ," Apophis said, gesturing at them both as he spoke. " _Re nek set!_ "

The people gathered in the room all kneeled on the floor, bowing and prostrating. " _Re nek, Klorel_   _ḥer_ _ā Herit_!"

"'My son the mighty warrior Klorel and his mate, my daughter Herit, goddess of the heavens'," Bra'tac translated the ancient Goa'uld for those present who only spoke the Jaffa dialect, "'will become my lieutenants upon completion of their union. Hail and worship them!'"

Apophis continued talking but Sam couldn't hear a word of what he was saying because Klorel had turned his attention back on her and she had to keep all her focus on staying in place. He used his gloved hand to caress her cheek again, the metallic feeling of his golden hand device making her skin crawl as it reminded her of the time he'd touched her intimately – prior to being made a host. Her heart started pounding from fear when his fingers traced over her lips before he let his hand slide down her neck.

In the background, she heard Bra'tac's voice but the blood rushing in her ears was too loud to understand him. The desire to bolt grew as Klorel's hand trailed down her chest and she had to fight the urge to throw up when he brushed the inside of her breast. Instead, Sam tilted her head and tried to look confident while staring straight ahead, just over his shoulder. She wasn't sure she could stand there and let him untie her dress if she looked at his face. Logically, she knew the face she was seeing belonged to a host who had been taken over by the Goa'uld Klorel, but that didn't change the way she felt.

Revulsion welled inside of her when Klorel pushed the dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He smirked approvingly, one hand skimming along her belly and over her hip as he walked around her. Sam had seen her uncle Irving treat cattle with more respect during an inspection and refused to feel humiliated while Klorel continued to circle her, appraising her naked body.

His hands wandered up and down her back, making her shudder. They slid lower, over her buttocks and she reluctantly widened her stance when one hand slipped between her legs. It took everything she had to keep her face from showing her true feelings as one of his fingers probed her opening. His other hand came to rest on her shoulder and he leaned in, whispering in her ear, "It pleases me to find you wet for me,  _meriu."_

Sam nearly gagged when his words were followed by sloppy kiss just under her ear. Forcing herself to turn her head, she gave him better access to her neck, while covering the gloved hand that had moved to just under her breast with her own. She bit the inside of her cheek when he started stroking her, fingers spreading her wetness around. With tongue and teeth, he worked his way down her neck and she couldn't hold back a soft whimper when he scraped over her carotid and pinched both nipples in turn.

Finally, he stopped and stepped in front of her, a lustful expression on his face as his gaze moved up from her bejeweled sandals to her eyes, lingering on the apex of her thighs and breasts. His lips curled up at the sight of her nipples, hard and red from his fingers. When their gazes locked, he smirked and started removing the ribbon device on his right hand. " _Herit, tai'_ _ȧ_ _sen't, tai'_ _ȧ_ _meriu, shesp tai'_ _ȧ khut_ ," he said, holding the weapon up in front of her, " _ṭeba tai'ten un ḥer mu ḥetes tai'n ȧt tai'f sṭenit ḥer._ "

"'Herit, goddess of the heavens, my sister, my beloved'," Bra'tac translated, "accept my power and protection in exchange for your loyalty to rule our father's domain together."

"It is covered in your scent," Klorel whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

Sam swallowed hard, all too aware of all the eyes suddenly on her while she stood there as naked as the day she was born. Slowly, she reached up and took the hand device from him. He had adjusted the glove, so she slipped her left hand in the bracelet as confidently as she could. With her free hand, she adjusted the finger guards to fit properly while ignoring the slickness covering them. Flexing her gloved fingers felt strange but she knew there would be time to adjust later on, once the ceremony was done.

" _Taān't ent Un_ _Ḥ_ _er_ _Ȧ_ _m Setcherit tini han tai'ten ȧst ȧmakh ges ȧ m tai'ȧ met_ _ḥ_ _ent_."

"'By completing the Rite of  _Un_ _Ḥ_ _er_ _Ȧ_ _m Setcherit_ you acknowledge your place at my side as my mate.'"

Sam mustered a smile and dipped her chin briefly in assent. With everything going on, she couldn't recall if Herit had told her to say something or not, and figured it was best to stay quiet rather than risk betraying herself by saying the wrong thing. She knew it was her turn now and, gritting her teeth, reached out for him. The device on her arm felt strange, its weight heavy but the metal warm from Klorel's skin. Some strands of his black hair got caught in the glove when she pushed the dreads out of the way to grab the Egyptian collar covering his shoulders. The bejeweled metal was heavier than it looked for a piece of jewelry and it took both her hands, and some effort, to lift it up over his head.

All the while, there was only about a foot of space between them and Klorel was watching her closely with his dark eyes. She was acutely aware of her own nakedness as she placed the collar to the side and caught sight of their audience. Most of the crowd were watching them with reverence but Master Bra'tac seemed to be paying close attention to her, as if trying to determine whether she was who she pretended to be. Or maybe that was all in her mind… Apophis was looking on with an approving smirk that made her feel even more uncomfortable.

" _Meriu_?"

Her attention was drawn back to Klorel by the pet name and she tried to smile as seductively as possible as she took a step closer to him, until there were only a few inches between their bodies. Focusing her attention on the white tunic matching her dress, she avoided looking at his boyish face and forced herself to continue by reaching for the strings of the shirt. Suddenly, she felt a warmth run down her arm and the ruby pressing against her palm started to glow!

Klorel grabbed her wrists, " _Shin tel, Herit_?!"

Sam froze and had to bite back a whimper when his grip on her tightened. His gaze locked on hers and her eyes widened when his glowed an alien white. The ruby glowed brighter for a moment until she realized what was happening; she took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions back under control. The glowing stopped and the tingling in her arm ebbed away. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than a few seconds because from the corner of her eyes, Sam could tell no one in the audience had noticed anything, not even Apophis.

"Herit _…_ " Klorel was still looking at her suspiciously and she had to think fast, before he realized what was going on.

An idea struck her and she quickly twisted her arms in a move her father had taught her as a kid and one that Klorel clearly hadn't expected, allowing her to free herself from his grip. Summoning all her bravado, she raised her free hand and rested her fingers on Klorel's lips. " _Rin nok._ " They were two of the few Goa'uld words she recalled, simply because Bra'tac had constantly told her to be quiet during her weeks in captivity. "My pharaoh," she added in a soft tone, looking at him from under her lashes and reaching for the strings of his tunic again.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, before snapping it shut again and looking at her with a new appreciation. A soft smirk played around his lips and he lowered his hands again, giving her all the room she needed to untie his shirt.

She bit the inside of her lip as she started to untie the strings, hoping he'd interpret the slight shaking of her fingers as excitement rather than nerves. The farther down she went, the more of his chest was exposed. Every now and then, her bare fingers would brush his skin and it caused an intensely weird feeling. Similar to what she felt when the hand device activated and she briefly wondered if it was due to their Goa'uld. The look on his face told her he felt it as well and enjoyed it, which only increased her discomfort.

" _Men, meriu_."

Steeling herself, Sam pushed the opened tunic off his shoulders and gave him her best flirtatious smile as she ran her gloved hand down his chest. The sight of his smooth chest didn't do anything for her and only enforced her impression of his youthful looks. God, he looked barely legal and she hadn't been interested in guys like him when  _she_  had been that age! Bile rose in her throat when she reached the hem of his white leather-like pants and she caught sight of his obvious arousal. His dark eyes found hers and she had to remind herself of the stakes when his heated gaze flicked down her body and up again.

She kept the previous incident with the hand device in mind and tried to keep her emotions under control, while her fingers started undoing the laces of his pants. Klorel's breathing sped up and she could see him grow harder from her actions. Focusing at the task at hand, she kept going and ignored the feeling of his hard-on pressing against her hand as best she could until she had finished. The laces were completely undone but even without an erection those leather pants weren't going to fall to the ground on their own. In his current state, Klorel's pants remained almost snug at his hips.

He was looking at her expectantly while clearly struggling with his self-restraint. " _Ṭemam, Herit_."

_What?_  Sam had a vague recollection of Herit telling her to strip off the pants but one look at Klorel made her determined not to kneel in front of him. If they were supposed to rule alongside each other, she refused to bow down to him. Instead, she shook her head, " _Rin nok_." He looked conflicted over her reminder and let out a low groan, eyes falling shut, when she took a step closer and let her breasts brush his chest. She closed her eyes as well and tried to imagine she was somewhere else - with  _someone else_. Her mind latched onto the memory of her night with Jack as she slipped her free hand in his pants.

" _Na'nay_ ," Klorel grabbed her wrist and stopped her from freeing him from the confines of the leather.

She briefly wondered if she'd gone too far but considering the way his cock had responded to her, she doubted he didn't enjoy it. Searching for familiar Goa'uld words and failing, she finally settled for his name. "Klorel?"

" _Na'nay, Herit._ "

He pulled her hand away with an almost embarrassing look on his face. Maybe it was too much for him while this aroused… Could it be that the host's human responses were too overwhelming for a Goa'uld? If the Abydonian host was Klorel's first like she was Herit's, then perhaps he'd never experienced it before? God, the thought made her stomach turn.

Using his free hand, Klorel caressed her cheek and slowly let his fingers trail down her neck, chest and belly before settling on her hip. " _Aqs_ ," he said, glancing towards the bed behind him and giving her a gentle push.

Doing as she was told, Sam walked around him and moved over to the bed. She took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder at him, seeing him watching her, before crawling onto the bed. From what Herit had told her about the ancient ceremony, the most humiliating part was still to come and it took all of Sam's willpower to remain on the bed. Her instincts were screaming at her to flee but she knew it would be of no use and her punishment upon capture would only be much worse.

Klorel stripped off his pants and threw them aside, his chest heaving and cock erect as he let his eyes move over every visible inch and curve of her body. With one last glance towards Apophis, he walked over to the bed and climbed behind her.

His hands were rough on her hips when he yanked her towards him. Sam tensed in response, fear clawing at her spine. She gasped when he grabbed her neck and pulled her upright, her back resting against his chest and giving their audience a good look at her naked body. Her stomach churned when he started groping her. Greedy hands moving over her, pulling, squeezing and tugging. His erection pressed against her insistently, pre-cum smeared against her skin. A wet tongue on her neck, whispered words in Goa'uld in her ear. The metal of the hand device dragging over her skin.

She gasped when he pushed her back on all fours and barely caught herself. Her gaze locked with Master Bra'tac before she lowered her head, biting her lip. Lips and tongue moving over her back, teeth nipping at her skin. A hand between her legs, fingers pushing inside of her. The intrusion was uncomfortable, she wasn't wet enough, not ready. Never ready for him.  _Think of Jack…_   _imagine it's him_.

Tears sprang in her eyes when the fingers were replaced with a cock, without warning. His hands yanked her back, pushing him in deeper. She lowered her head and clenched her jaw, breathing through the burning pain. There was no time to adjust when he pulled out before ramming back inside, deeper and harder than before. It took everything she had not to cry.

He was grunting, hands groping and metal scratching her skin. Her inner muscles protested, his pace too fast and thrusts too hard. She tasted blood from where she bit her lip and groaned when he slammed into her again, her body moving forward on the bed from impact.

Klorel pulled her flush against him, grunting and thrusting. His gloved hand roamed her skin, stroking, twisting and pinching. Sweat broke out on her skin. He changed the angle, tilting her hips and cried out in Goa'uld when he climaxed. He didn't release her until he'd completely emptied himself inside of her and withdrew his softening cock from her body.

Sam's muscles finally relaxed but she didn't get the time to get her erratic breathing or emotions under control before he pulled her upright again. His chest was warm and clammy against her, but she made herself lean against him anyway.

" _Meriu_." His left arm wrapped around her waist, its gloved fingers digging into her skin, while he used his free hand to brush braids out of her face. " _Tep un_ _ȧu tai'ȧ met ḥent, Herit_."

Forcing a smile, she turned her face to lean into his touch. She rested her gloved hand on his where it lay on her hip, idly wondering how long it would take her to master control of the weapon he'd given her. How many more times could she do this? Herit had taken pleasure in telling her how the Goa'uld enjoyed sexual intercourse in their human hosts, so she doubted this was the last time she would have to endure this.

The pain his roughness had caused in her unprepared body was receding but she knew she would be sore for a while. Sam was still breathing through it when suddenly his lips were on hers. Surprised, she opened her mouth to say something, which he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside. Reluctantly, she returned the kiss but ended it as quickly as possible and turned her face away from him.

Apophis walked over to them, looking very pleased with himself. " _Tai'ȧ uā't_."

Klorel stood and bowed his head. "Father."

"You chose your mate and her host well, Klorel," he said, clasping his shoulder and smirking in approval.

"It was you who seeded the Queen mother and gave me eternal life by choosing my host, father. I merely wished to do the same for my sister once she reached maturity."

"Yes," Apophis said, turning his attention to Sam. He reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her face upwards. "I did not think you were ready for implantation yet. Still so young yet strong, my daughter."

Sam hesitated for a moment when he released her and held out his hand, before taking it and letting him pull her up from the bed. "Father," she said, as demurely as possible.

"Your host suits you well, Herit. Strong and exquisite. Such a fine specimen, indeed."

His onceover made her skin crawl and she had to suppress the urge to cover herself. From behind her, Klorel placed his hands on her shoulders and let them slide down her arms, before encircling her waist. She tensed when he pulled her against his chest and forced herself to relax in his embrace. The skin contact intensified the nauseating tingling sensation she'd started associating with the Goa'uld and all she wanted was for the ceremony to end, so she could get cleaned up as far away as possible from him. "Klorel chose well," she affirmed, hoping her words would hurry things along.

Apophis brushed his fingers against her cheek and smiled. "An unconventional beauty for my strong and temperamental daughter. You complement each other," he cast a glance at Klorel, "which will serve us well as we rule my domain." He turned and signaled Master Bra'tac.

" _Mesui neterui ent Apophis, Klorel_ _ḥer_ _ā tai'f met_ _ḥ_ _ent Herit_ _tem_ _ȧ_ _i ḥer_ _ā_ _tep set_ _pesesh_ _s_ _ṭ_ _enit ent tai'u_ _ȧt_ _Apophis ḥer_ _ā hen tai'f ut ha'tak. Re nek heq_ _ḥer_ _ā heq't ent tai'n_ _ḥeri Apophis_ ," Bra'tac announced.

Sam shuddered in revulsion when Klorel pressed his body against her and kissed her neck, but she remained in place, staring straight ahead.

" _Meriu_ ," he murmured against her skin. " _ḥer ȧnn s-ḥeni_ _un_ _ḥ_ _erā khām_."

Bra'tac gestured towards them with his free hand as he translated. "The two divine children of the Serpent God, the Mighty Warrior Klorel and his mate Herit, Goddess of the Heavens, joined together and from now on will share the domain of their father Apophis and take command of his other  _ha'tak_. All hail and worship the prince and princess of our pharaoh."

The audience kneeled and started prostrating again. " _Re nek heq_ _ḥ_ _er_ _ā heq't ent tai'n_ _ḥ_ _eri Apophis!"_

" _Re nek tai'_ _ȧ meriu_ ," Klorel whispered in her ear.

Sam swallowed hard as she watched the people in front of her prostrating and tried to ignore Klorel's wandering hands or his semen dripping down her thighs. The ceremony was finally coming to an end and she couldn't wait to leave and wash all the evidence from her body.

She had never felt dirtier before in her life.


	21. Dealing

**Stargate Command**   
**Colorado Springs, CO**   
**September 25, 1997**

"All right. Wait a minute. Let… Let me get something straight here.  _Engaged_?"

Catherine chuckled at his bewilderment. "Didn't I tell you you would have liked Samantha?"

Jack's mind was spinning from the revelation. He still wasn't sure what to think of Daniel's story but it didn't seem like something he'd make up. Teal'c's theory about it being a vision didn't really jibe either, at least not with the engaged part. He hadn't told anyone about his night with Sam or that he'd wanted more, so how could Daniel have possibly known?

But damn,  _engaged_?! He'd liked her a lot and enjoyed the time they spent together in DC, but that wasn't the same as getting married. Sure, if they'd lived in the same area and his life wasn't so weird, he would have wanted to try dating or a serious relationship. Hell, he'd even suggested as much back then before she'd reminded him of the long distance and how it wouldn't work. She'd been right, of course; it was unfair for him to expect her to be there whenever he was actually on Earth and in the neighborhood. But Jack knew Sam was the kind of woman he liked. The one he'd fall for, hard, if given the chance.

Right now, though, he would be happy with just knowing she was still alive. They hadn't heard anything about a  _Tau'ri_  female off-world and for all they knew, she really was dead. No one deserved that kind of fate, but especially not someone like Sam. She'd accomplished so much for the greater good and was kind, funny and crazy intelligent. Jack hadn't given up hope of finding her yet, just like he was still hopeful they'd find Sha're and Skaara, but he also had to be realistic.

"I told you, I must have ended up in an alternate reality or something when I touched that mirror on P3R-233. Those exist, right Catherine?"

Pulled from his thoughts by Daniel's question, Jack turned to the older woman for an explanation as well.

"Um, I believe the whole concept of alternate realities, entire alternate universes, was predicted by Einstein a long time ago… but that isn't really my area of expertise. Unfortunately, Samantha was the physics expert. We're still looking for a replacement for her, but considering the budget review it might not even be necessary."

"If I wasn't in an alternate reality, then why couldn't you guys find me on that planet? And how did I get this injury?" Daniel indicated his bandaged shoulder. "It's not like there was a staff weapon in that lab, unless you think Teal'c shot me."

"I did not."

Jack clapped the Jaffa on his back. "Yeah, didn't think you did, T."

"So, was I there? In that alternate reality of yours," Kershaw asked, looking at Daniel with curiosity.

The archaeologist grimaced and shook his head. "Nope. I know I was most likely dead because Egypt had been bombed," he referenced to his telling of events earlier, "but I have no idea where you were, Christina."

"Serves you right," Catherine said with a teasing smile, "for being rude to me when I invited you to join the translational team, Daniel."

Jack rolled his eyes at all the questions, although he had to admit he found it hard to believe his alternate him was a general according to Daniel. And engaged, he reminded himself. To Sam. The hot blonde who'd dazzled him with her luminous smile that day in the bar. He briefly wondered if their alternates had met the same way. Had the other Sam taken the other him up on his offer to stay in touch?

Christ, he hadn't ever considered getting married again. Not after screwing up his marriage and destroying Sara in the process. So, what was it about this alternate version of himself that made the guy capable of committing himself like that again – to love like that again? Maybe if Charlie hadn't died… Or maybe, Jack thought, he should be asking what it was about Sam that made the other him to risk his heart again.

And hell, did this all mean he actually believed Daniel's crazy story? Well, it wasn't like his life hadn't been weird the past year, he thought. If aliens were alive, then why wouldn't alternate realities be a, um, reality?

"… maybe if we tell him, he sees why the Program is so important," Daniel said.

"Huh?" Jack raised a brow when everyone was looking at him.

"Daniel Jackson suggested revealing Apophis' plans of attack to Senator Kinsey for him to understand the value of Stargate Command."

Jack made a face at the thought of the upcoming hearing. He just knew that damn Samuels – a lieutenant colonel now, talk about failing upwards – had poisoned the senator's mind about the SGC. Hammond hadn't told them much yet, but Jack could read the General pretty well after working with him for months. The man was clearly concerned, especially if he called on Jack of all people to defend the SGC's importance to some pencil pusher. "Thank you, Teal'c. For right now, I think it would be best to keep that bit of information to ourselves, though. Our little ace in the hole, okay Daniel?"

"Why?"

"Just because."

Catherine eyed him in that way she had, before nodding to herself. "I agree with Jack, Daniel. Let's wait and see what will happen in the hearing first."

"I just can't believe one man has so much power," Kershaw said chagrined and turned to him. "Do you really think they'll close down the base if the Senator isn't convinced by us, Sir?"

Jack rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I don't know, Lieutenant. Could be. It's certainly not what you signed up for, is it?"

To his surprise, she chuckled. "Are you kidding me, Colonel? I might not have known what I was signing up for, but this is the best assignment I've ever had. I'll be pissed if they shut us down, especially if it's because some politician disagrees with how the General runs things. I know it's probably different for you because of your experience in black ops and stuff, but can you imagine a better way to learn about ground combat for someone like me?"

"Can't argue with that, Kershaw," he replied, smirking. Sometimes, he forgot she was still green and that, combined with the fact she was a woman, meant SG-1 had to be the assignment of a lifetime. Where else would they let women fight on the front lines?

"But don't you think anything after this will seem… well, disappointing, I guess?"

Kershaw looked up and shrugged. "I'm Air Force, Daniel. The brass decides where I'm needed and that's where I go to serve my country. I still count myself lucky for having been assigned to SG-1 in the first place."

"Ah, to be young again," Catherine said, smiling. "For me, it ends here with the Program. If they shut it all down, I'll retire again and focus on Ernest. And I suspect the same goes for you, Jack?"

"Sure, I retired once." He frowned, realizing the idea wasn't as appealing as it once was. If only he'd be able to save Sha're, Skaara and Sam before that senator shut it down…

"If this world does not intend to continue its struggle against the Goa'uld, then here I do not belong."

Daniel nodded as Teal'c spoke. "I might join you. I know I'm not a warrior like you or Jack, but I made a promise to Sha're and her father."

"Let's just hope that won't be necessary," Catherine said, getting up from her seat. "There is still a chance we will be able to convince this Senator Kinsey. But not on an empty stomach, so why don't we all get some breakfast?"

* * *

**Goa'uld Mothership**   
**Planet unknown**

Bra'tac and another Jaffa had escorted Sam back to her private chambers and it had taken her a minute to realize she needed to dismiss them before they would actually leave. Bra'tac had given her an inquiring look when she sent the human servants away as well, but she needed her privacy. The moment they were gone, she ran to the other side of the room and threw up in a basin. It didn't take long to empty her stomach contents and it was mostly bile - she couldn't even recall the last time she'd eaten anything. But it wasn't until the dry heaving stopped that she turned away. She cleaned her mouth with water from a nearby pitcher and finally took a good look around the room. It was different from before the ceremony; there was a steaming bath waiting for her.

Sam almost sighed with relief and made her way over to the tub. She couldn't wait to feel clean again. Her hands trembled when she stripped and by the time she was sitting in the bath, her whole body was shaking and tears started rolling down her cheeks. The water sloshed around her but not even its heat could warm her up; she was chilled to the bone. She pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, making herself as small as possible.

All the feelings she'd been holding back during the ceremony came crashing down around her and a sob racked her body. She couldn't believe what had just happened. That she'd actually… that  _he_  had…

Shaking herself, Sam grabbed a nearby cloth and used it to wipe away her tears, before cleansing her whole face. She moved onto her neck and arms, grimacing at the makeup stains on the cloth and the mess it made on her arms because of the oil on her skin. She started rubbing harder as she remembered the slick feel of Klorel's hands on her skin and didn't stop until the flesh started to redden. God, why had she done it?  _Let_  him do it? Her stomach churned at the memory of Klorel's hands and mouth on her, him being inside of her, his grunts of pleasure…

"No, no, no…" All traces had to be removed. His sweat, saliva and semen… God, she had to get it off! Frantically, she started scrubbing until her skin was pink and clean. Her thighs were almost raw by the time she stopped but just the thought of him touching her intimately and his semen covering her made her skin crawl.

"Calm down," she muttered. Breathing heavily, she leaned back in the tub and put the cloth away. She closed her eyes and tried to focus.

_Carters aren't quitters_.

Sam grimaced at her father's old mantra. He was right, of course. She had simply done what she needed to do to survive. There was no changing that. If she hadn't gone along with the ceremony, either Apophis and Klorel or Herit would have noticed. Just the thought of having to put herself in that position was enough to make her sick again, but it had been the only way.

"Enough moping around, Sam," she told herself. This was the situation she found herself in after her own CO betrayed her; she would have to make the best of it if she wanted to survive. At least she was still in control of her own body, even if the things she had to do to keep up the pretense were repulsive. It was time to start acting like a Goa'uld and she was pretty sure they didn't usually have meltdowns in their baths. What if someone came in and saw her like this?

Angrily wiping at her tears, Sam got up and stepped out of the tub. She winced when she walked over to the mirror after grabbing a towel. Her body was sore and it hurt, but there was no time to dwell on it. The mirror's reflection showed small bruises were already forming and she could see the spots where Klorel had nipped at her skin or been otherwise rough with her. Herit had mentioned something about going into the sarcophagus after the ceremony to heal, but Klorel had called dibs on it and Sam had no idea how long he'd be in there. How was she supposed to cover up?

Her gaze lingered on her abdomen and she gently placed a hand on it.  _Pregnant_. She still couldn't quite believe it but knew it to be true. Herit had been pretty insistent on Sam keeping the baby and that scared her. The Goa'uld – all three of them – had been rather eager for her to become Herit's host so why would Herit willingly go to sleep and give up control for Sam to be able to carry her unborn child?

_Jack_.

That was the only reason she could think of; they saw him as the leader of the  _Tau'ri_  and wanted revenge on him. She had felt Herit's probing and apparently the Goa'uld had discovered who'd impregnated her. They would use the baby to either lure or torment Jack and that was unacceptable.

Sam knew she had to get away from Klorel and Apophis. She couldn't tell them about the pregnancy, like Herit had wanted. That meant there wasn't much time left, though. Soon, she would start showing, especially if Klorel wanted more… intimacy.

Gulping, she wrapped the towel around her body. That didn't matter. Nothing did. She had someone else to think of now. The baby's safety had to come first. Even if it meant she would have to go along with everything Klorel wanted until there was a chance to escape.

Home wasn't a possibility anymore. At least, not anytime soon. Not after Grieves had betrayed her. Who knew what he'd told everyone? For all she knew, she'd been labeled as a traitor and her father had buried an empty casket on his own. If he'd even bothered to show up…

Shaking herself, Sam tried to lose that train of thought. There was no point in it. Right now, all that mattered was escaping. Not to Earth. She had no GDO or IDC and there was a good possibility a firing squad would await her on the other side of the gate, even if she somehow managed to get them to open the iris for her. She had to go somewhere safe, without Herit realizing it and taking back control…

"I'll find a way," she murmured, one hand brushing over her belly.


	22. Knowledge

**Klorel and Herit's Mothership**   
**Hyperspace, Milky Way Galaxy**

Sam awoke with a start, her mind fuzzy and she felt groggy. It was reminiscent of waking up in her lab after pulling an all nighter at the Pentagon and she smiled at the distant memory. God, it felt like a lifetime ago! When she opened her eyes, she saw it wasn't as dark as last night and after a moment, she recognized her surroundings as her new bedroom.  _Their_  bedroom – Herit and Klorel's. Apophis and his wife Amaunet had shown them the new ship yesterday, before saying their goodbyes. Most of it had been in Goa'uld and Sam had trouble following the conversation, but she deduced they got command of their own ship and split up. The ship was similar to the one she'd been on previously as far as she could tell, except for the unfamiliar faces of Jaffa and human slaves.

Mindful of the other occupant in bed, Sam stretched her sore body. The reminder of last night's activities had her hiding her grimace in the pillow. It hadn't been as humiliating as the ceremony but it had been uncomfortable and  _unwanted_. But at least it had taken place mostly in the dark and she'd been spared seeing his face. Just as she was about to get up, she felt a hand on her stomach and froze.

" _Meriu_ ," Klorel muttered, leaning in to kiss her bare shoulder. "We entered hyperspace. It is what awoke you; your host's body is not familiar with it."

It took all her self-control to remain there right next to him, while his hand moved over her skin and keep her voice steady, "Oh." His hand slipped between her legs as if it was the most natural thing in the world and she flinched as he cupped her. The ceremony had left some minor tearing and last night hadn't helped…

"Herit." He leaned up on his elbow and looked down at her, not removing his hand. "You are in discomfort. Why have you not healed your host?" He narrowed his eyes at her and used his free hand to touch the bruised skin on her neck. "What is this?"

Damn!

Without waiting for a reply, Klorel yanked the sheet away to reveal her body to his gaze. Grabbing her upper arm, he pulled her closer and scanned her naked form. "Why are these scrapes and bruises not healed?"

Sam nearly winced at the scrutiny but tried not to let it show. A memory from last night flashed through her mind – his lips on her neck while thrusting inside of her - as she touched the bruised skin he was looking at. "A mark from our, um, mating last night. My pharaoh," she added belatedly.

"You have not healed your host since the ceremony," he stated, brows knitted together in confusion. Tracing the bruises on her hips and redness on her inner thighs with his fingers made his pupils dilate, he was clearly taking some perverse satisfaction from being the cause.

"They are your marks," she said, fighting the urge to turn away self-consciously. The darkness last night had hid the bruises and reddened skin from his piercing eyes but with the illumination from the torches, they were clearly visible. Herit had told her to go into the sarcophagus after the ceremony to heal and avoid arousing anyone's suspicions but Klorel had gone first and Sam used it as an excuse to stall. By the time she'd screwed up her courage to go in and communicate with the Goa'uld inside of her, Apophis and Amaunet had called them for an audience.

When he didn't say anything, she took a deep breath and glanced up at him. She knew it was now or never, so she rolled onto her side and trapped his hand between her thighs. Forcing a smile, she ran a hand seductively over his chest and pointedly looked at his erection. "Does it not please you to see the evidence of our mating on this body, my Lord?"

"You know it does,  _meriu_ ," he replied, squeezing her thigh.

"That is why."

Klorel smirked as if approving and touched her cheek. "Everything about you brings me pleasure."

Sam smiled in response, even though his mere presence made her nauseous and the way he looked at her made bile rise in her throat. "Is that not why you chose me as your mate, my pharaoh?"

To her surprise, he chuckled low in his throat. "You please us both,  _meriu_ ," he said, caressing her lazily. Upon her confusion, Klorel's smirk turned malicious and he looked at her intently as he dragged his thumb over her lips. "My host finds your beauty exquisite. To him, your eyes are  _khesbet_  and shine like the heavens, your hair reminds him of the sand of Abydos and your skin," he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, "so fair it has the color of sun bleached bone."

The metaphor about Abydos confirmed Sam's suspicions about Klorel's host – he was the young man taken during SG-1's second mission to the planet and Doctor Jackson's brother-in-law. That knowledge only furthered her disgust but she kept it from showing on her face, even when Klorel's caresses grew bolder.

"There mere sight of you arouses him, touching and tasting you feeds his desire for you. He feels ashamed over enjoying our  _setcherit_  for he knows your host was O'Neill's woman," Klorel chuckled. "He shared a bond with him and is aware of what is to come for the  _Tau'ri,_ which he feels guilty and responsible for. But wanting you and taking pleasure from your body causes even stronger conflicting emotions."

"You enjoy it."

"Naturally,  _meriu_." Klorel kissed his way up her neck and grabbed her hand to place it on his erection. "Tormenting is much more enjoyable this way. That is why," he whispered in her ear, "I will relinquish control to him betimes to fully experience your  _netchem't_. That is what he lives for now, to find pleasure in you despite his hatred for our kind and the guilt he feels over taking O'Neill's woman."

Taken aback by both the intimate knowledge of the Abydonian and Klorel confiding it in her, Sam fell silent and passively lay there as he worked his way down her neck again with his mouth. His hand was still resting on her thigh but with the evidence of his arousal in her hand, she knew it wouldn't be long before he wanted more from her. The thought filled her with dread and did nothing to get her in the mood, which meant more pain and discomfort for her. How long could she keep it up without him noticing?

"What of your host, Herit?"

"Huh?" Confused, she caught his gaze as he lifted his head from his exploration of her body to look at her. "What do you mean, my pharaoh?"

His lips curled up before he leaned down and kissed the swell of her breast. "Your host, she was very spirited and opinionated about becoming a host and Goa'uld in general. How does she feel about it now?"

Sam briefly wondered if it was a trick question but he seemed genuinely interested and, after a moment, decided to tell the truth. "She hates it-"

"What about our mating and this host body?" He asked, interrupting her.

"She despises the Goa'uld and this is killing her." She paused and realized that both sounded too human and the gesture she made to encompass their situation must have looked very human as well. "Your proximity and touch are repulsive. To her," she added belatedly. "When you touch her body she wants to inflict bodily harm on you and having you inside of her makes her want to scream and cry simultaneously."

Klorel simply smirked, as if they were mocking their hosts together. "Does she fight you still?"

"Yes," she replied, thinking back to her initial argument with Herit. "She believes I had no right to take her body simply because the  _Tau'ri_  are an inferior race. Not that she agrees with our assessment."

"Is she strong?"

Sam hesitated for a moment, wondering which answer he wanted to hear. "… yes."

Klorel flicked her nipple with his tongue before he stretched out alongside her again and placed his hand atop of hers where it was wrapped around his erection. "As is mine. He stubbornly fights me in the hopes of that  _Tau'ri_  O'Neill saving him. Foolish."

"Yes."

He raised an eyebrow at her curt answer but continued, "but like yours, he has spirit. A cause to believe in. That makes them a challenge,  _meriu_ , but also dangerous. More time in the sarcophagus will strengthen us and weaken them."

"My pharaoh?"

"The sarcophagus weakens the human resolve and is addictive to their physiology, which greatly weakens their minds but empowers and heals their bodies."

That must be why Herit insisted on her using it, Sam thought. No wonder she had been so adamant about it if weakened humans. "I see."

"You will use it to weaken your  _Tau'ri_  host," Klorel decided, "but not until later."

"Yes, my pharaoh," she said obediently.

Klorel exerted pressure on her hand to indicate he wanted her to tighten her grip on him and moaned when she did. He seemed lost in pleasure while she kept up the movements of her hand until he grabbed her wrist to stop her. "What of O'Neill?"

The sudden change of subject confused her but she couldn't deny she was glad for the interruption. "What of him… that  _Tau'ri_?"

"Your host," he said, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss it, "she was his woman. Did she enjoy mating with him?"

"Um, yes," Sam said slowly, wondering where he was going with it. "Why, my pharaoh?"

Klorel pressed himself against her body and moved his hand to cup her. "Tell me."

"Tell you, what?"

His fingers slipped through her folds and he had to have noticed she wasn't in the slightest bit turned on. "Tell me what he did. How he pleasured her."

"Why?"

"Because I wish to know,  _meriu._ "

Appalled by the request, Sam was conflicted as what to tell him. The memory of Jack was one of the few things she had to hold onto and she didn't want to share anything about that night with Klorel. "I don't understand, my pharaoh."

"Tell me where and how he touched her. What he did to arouse her and how he claimed her body as his, Herit."

"She treasures the memories of him," she said, cautiously. "It is what she thinks of when you are inside of me, Klorel."

Rather than be offended, the corners of his mouth quirked up – a dangerous smile she'd learned to recognize. "I am aware. Find them and relay her memories to me. Together, we shall strip her of the comfort they bring her."

"Thinking of the intimacies she shared with him arouses her." Sam hoped that playing on his ego – that Jack could arouse her when he failed – would make him let go of this sudden interest of his.

"Her body will respond to thoughts of O'Neill, the way my host responds to her," Klorel scoffed. "We will replace her memories with new ones of me claiming you,  _meriu_. Sharing her experience with O'Neill with me will get her wet and wanting – like you, she will delight in my taking of her body. When she screams her inevitable pleasure, she will loathe herself for enjoying it and the memory will bring her comfort no more."

Oh, God! Even after everything she had experienced so far, she couldn't believe he could be so cruel and heartless. He relished in tormenting her and his own host – Sam simply couldn't understand such unfounded hatred.

"Tell me what else arouses her,  _meriu…"_


	23. Resolutions

**Public Park**   
**Colorado Springs, CO**   
**October 12, 1997**

Jack smiled as he watched Cassandra play with her dog, Boomer. He wasn't sure who was enjoying the game of fetch more, the alien girl or the dog. One person he knew who wouldn't be happy, at least not with the muddy dog or girl, was Janet Fraiser. Almost three weeks ago, Hammond had told them the CMO would be adopting the girl. Fraiser had invited just about everyone to celebrate but she'd given him hell when he came back the next morning with the Shiba Inu. Cassandra had been thrilled with her new furry friend but the Doc had just glared at him when he explained there was a rule on Earth that said every kid had to have a dog.

"Jack! Jack, Jack, look!"

He walked over to them and ruffled the girl's hair, before petting Boomer on the head where he was sitting obediently. "Looks like the training is finally paying off if he's listening to your commands, Cassie."

She praised the dog like she'd been taught before shooting him a puzzled look. "My name is Cassandra."

"I know." He reached out to rub a smudge of mud from her cheek and felt his heart constrict when she trustingly leaned into him the way only a kid could. "It's a nick name, a term of endearment."

"Oh."

Doubting himself, he watched her face clear up before asking, "You don't like it?"

"I do!" Cassandra beamed up at him, before turning pensive again.

He watched her as she put the leash back on Boomer and rested his hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back towards the path they'd come. "What is it, munchkin?"

"Janet," she frowned, "um, I mean, my mom… she calls me Cassandra. Does that mean she doesn't like me?"

"Of course not," he was quick to say, "she's crazy about you."

Cassandra nodded but kept her head down, making it impossible to read her. "But not like you, Jack?"

"I know you've only been here for a few months but the Doc, uh, your mom, she loves you, Cassie. She wouldn't have requested to adopt you if she didn't. Don't ever doubt that."

"But you don't?"

Jack took her aside immediately and leaned down to eye level, hands on her shoulders. "Hey, what makes you think that? You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. You really think I'd be dropping by so often by if I didn't care about you?"

Cassandra bit her lip as she looked at him with teary eyes. "Then why didn't you adopt me?"

"Oh, I would if I could," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. "You're a special kid and you deserve the best. I can't be there for you the way you need me, but Janet can."

She hugged him a little tighter before pulling back. "Because you have to save Daniel's wife and his friend Sam?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling at her. "Sha're, Skaara and Sam are still out there and we have to find them."

"I don't want the Goa'uld to hurt them," she said solemnly. "If anyone can save them, it's you, Jack. Just like you saved me."

"I hope so, Cassie."

She grinned at him before looking away as Boomer started pulling on the leash. "I know you will. So does Daniel, Teal'c, Grandpa George and Janet. I mean, my mom."

Jack got back up, grimacing as his knees popped, and wrapped his arm around the alien girl's shoulders. "You know, Janet will understand it if you can't call her mom yet."

"But she helped save my life and even adopted me. My teacher said she's my mom now."

"In a legal sense, sure," he said, searching for a way to explain it to her. "But Janet's a smart lady and she knows you lost your parents on Hanka. Trust me Cassie, she doesn't expect you to forget about them. She just loves you and wants to take care of you. She understands you're still grieving and that's normal. You have a lot of adjusting to do and Janet will give you all the time you need."

Cassandra nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. "What does that mean, 'in the legal sense'?"

"Um, well, you know how every kid has to have a dog? Every kid also needs parents to love them and take care of them. When their own parents die, someone else like Janet will step in to make sure they're loved and taken care of. Even if she isn't your own mom, she has become your mother in the eyes of the law when she adopted you."

"Oh, okay."

Jack pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her crown. "So, do you have any more questions or are you ready to get some ice cream?"

"Ice cream?"

"Yep," he smirked and jerked his head in the direction of the ice cream truck, "that's another Earth rule; every kid has to have ice cream at least once a year."

Cassandra giggled and threw her arms around his waist. "I love you, Jack."

Overcome with emotion, he swallowed hard and squeezed her tight. "I love you too, Cassie."

"Come on, Boomer," she said, pulling away from him, "let's go get ice cream!"

Jack took a deep breath and watched her run off with the dog. God, he hadn't expected that when he went over to Fraiser's place to take Cassie to the park with him. Since she'd gotten to Earth, he made sure to visit her at least once a week. After getting her Boomer, he felt a bit guilty about dumping the dog on the Doc so he'd spent a lot of time with the young girl lately.

After Kinsey had decided the SGC had to be shut down over two weeks ago, he'd suddenly found himself with a lot of spare time. Most of which he used to hang out with his team or Cassie, but it was usually just lighthearted fun.

He'd almost forgotten what it was like to get such trust and unconditional love from a child and he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if Daniel was right about the Goa'uld attack. Would Cassie ever feel like that way again towards anyone, assuming they survived the attack? She had already lost a whole planet, had they only taken her to Earth to lose another?

Oh hell, Jack thought as he neared the ice cream truck, he needed to talk to his team. If they didn't do something now and the Goa'uld would attack later, he'd feel like an idiot.

* * *

**Klorel and Herit's Mothership**   
**Hyperspace, Milky Way Galaxy**

Sam sat up in the sarcophagus, feeling both disoriented and euphoric. She rose to her feet in one smooth motion and grabbed the hand Bra'tac held out to help her out of the device.

"My Lady," he said, inclining his head.

"What of Klorel?"

"The pharaoh is at the  _peltac_."

She nodded in acknowledgment and headed for the door. "I will be in my chambers. Arrange for food to be brought."

The First Prime bowed before turning on his heel, going into the opposite direction to take care of her order.

Sam watched him disappear around a corner and made her way over to her chambers. One of the 'windows' showed the telltale sign of hyperspace and she wondered how much longer they would be underway. It felt like it had been weeks since that morning she woke up with a jolt and Klorel explained they'd entered hyperspace. Being in held in captivity prior to implantation and now spending all her time in space messed with her circadian rhythm and she still had difficulty telling how much time had passed.

The sarcophagus sessions weren't helping, either. She knew they were supposed to be used for healing only but after the conversation she'd had with Klorel when he found out she hadn't healed yet, she'd gone into it every now and then. He'd told her it would weaken the host by making them addicted to it and that was why she avoided using the device. Today had been her third time since then and she'd already felt the lure of it before going in. But she couldn't avoid it altogether without arousing anyone's suspicions. Not when Klorel used it on an almost daily basis.

There was one unforeseen bonus to her trips to the sarcophagus, though; the conversations with Herit had revealed that the Goa'uld was unaware of everything that happened between sessions! Sam had been worried that Herit was monitoring her, but the questions she'd asked proved that she really was in some kind of coma. Sam had also discovered that by being preoccupied or focusing solely on one thing, the Goa'uld couldn't read her other thoughts while in the sarcophagus.

Herit, on the other hand, had revealed quite a bit during their conversations. Sam had learned from her that the ship was on its way to Earth and that the Goa'uld didn't really know much about her home planet or its population. First, they would rendezvous with Apophis on some backwater planet and then they'd journey to Earth in their respective ships.

That meant she had to move up her timetable. They had been in hyperspace for a while now and Klorel had mentioned something about seeing Apophis soon, so Sam figured they'd arrive on the rendezvous point in a day or two. That might be the only shot she had at escaping. Unless they landed on Earth, but even if she managed to get away then, she'd have to somehow prove she wasn't a Goa'uld – although she carried on inside of her. No, her best shot would be the meetup point. The moment they went back into hyperspace, she wouldn't be able to engage the stargate.

Sam entered her chambers and wasn't surprised to see food and drinks were set on a side table. A session in the sarcophagus always left her feeling hungry, but she'd been ravenous all day. She wasn't sure if it was due to the pregnancy – she was pretty sure she could already feel a light swelling when she pressed down just above her pubic bone – or the fact that she'd been practicing with the hand device earlier that day. Using the alien device proved easier than she'd expected, all it required was for her to focus her emotions. During the mating ceremony with Klorel it had activated accidentally but that had given her a frame of reference; lately, there was enough anger, frustration and hatred in her that it hardly took any effort. But the past couple of days, she'd started really practicing when she was alone.

Turning over her left hand, she looked at the red ruby covering her palm. It looked so harmless, pretty even. Once activated, it was far more versatile and powerful than she'd expected. She knew from SG-1's mission report that Apophis had a personal force field shield on it and that he'd used it once to throw Doctor Jackson across a room and to subdue Sergeant Kettering. He'd tortured Sam with it during his interrogation and it had felt like her brain would explode. And Klorel… she shuddered at the memory of a few nights ago, when he'd slipped his hand between her legs and pressed his activated ruby against her clit; her orgasm came out of nowhere and the pain she'd felt overruled any pleasure she might have gotten from it. The painful throbbing had lasted all night, but she'd been forced to play along and let him have his way with her.

The anger and shame she'd felt that night came rushing back to her, making the ruby on her palm glow brightly. She flexed the fingers encased in the hand device and looked around the room.

"Let's see," she muttered. There was a bottle of oil on the nightstand and, after focusing on it, Sam raised her hand, activated the hand device and threw the bottle against the wall three feet away. It shattered and fell to the floor. Not for the first time, she wondered if all Goa'uld were skilled at using the device or if her military training gave her an advantage, because her aim was pretty good considering she'd only started practicing a little while ago.

Only a moment later, tiredness started creeping in and Sam decided she'd practiced enough for one day. The hand device cost more energy than she would have liked, especially while still training herself. But she wasn't sure if it was possible to perfect her use of it any further, so maybe she should take a break the next few days. All the broken items were bound to raise some brows, although so far no one had dared to ask her about it. If she kept it up, though, it was more than likely that Klorel or Bra'tac would walk in one day and, well, she wasn't sure if they'd comment on it but as a Goa'uld she probably shouldn't be seen  _practicing_  anything.

Sighing, Sam walked over to the laid out food. Most of the items were alien to her, but she'd eaten enough of them over the past few days to know what she liked. She grabbed a handful of the berry-like fruit and popped a few into her mouth. Just as she was picking out some vegetables, the door opened and Klorel strode into their shared chambers with a couple of female servants following him.

"Father has contacted us through the  _nu techet her ta'ami_ while you were in the sarcophagus,  _meriu_."

"Has he arrived at the assembly point?"

Klorel stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms possessively around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Not yet."

"Then, what?"

He craned his neck to look at her, brows raised in surprise when she let some of her frustration bleed into her voice. "He will be delayed and will meet us the day after next. Perhaps sooner if all goes well."

"Why?" She asked, slipping from his embrace under the pretext of getting some fruit juice from the other side of the table.

"Amaunet."

"What about her?"

Klorel walked around the table, taking a bite of a sort of cross between a guava and mango and smirked at her. "She is with child."

Sam nearly choked on her juice and automatically placed her hand protectively on her lower abdomen, but he was simply looking her in the eye. "She… is?"

"A  _harsesis_ , Herit," he whispered, eyes darting to the female servants on the other side of the room.

She had no idea what he was talking about but the way he was acting told her it was important and secretive. Schooling her features, she aimed for a combination of surprise and outrage. "A  _harsesis_?!"

"Yes, father is intending for the child to be his new host. His own is old and frail, requiring more sessions in the sarcophagus. He is well aware that a child of two hosts is forbidden by the other System Lords and that they will send an  _ashrak_  to hunt it down to be destroyed by the Goa'uld with great impunity, but he will risk it to obtain all the knowledge of the Goa'uld. Amaunet must be hidden away elsewhere until the child is delivered to prevent anyone from finding out. Then, father will merely have to wait until the child has matured to change hosts."

It took Sam a moment to process all the new information and she couldn't help but think that would complicate her own situation. If anyone found out she – as Herit or Herit's former host – was pregnant they might automatically assume she was carrying a  _harsesis_  as well! Herit was Klorel's mate after all as well as Apophis' daughter. "That is a, um, daring plan."

"Indeed it is."

"Father is secreting her away?"

Klorel nodded and proceeded with telling her about the planet where Apophis would hide Amaunet for now. Later on, she might be moved elsewhere, because the Goa'uld wouldn't be able to keep controlling the host during pregnancy. "You appear concerned. Do not worry, I will not consider either of us changing hosts for a long time, or creating a  _harsesis_  of our own. I find your host far too appealing as she is,  _meriu_."

"Merely wondering about the delay of our plan of attack for the  _Tau'ri_ ," Sam said, ignoring his statement.

"It means nothing. The  _Tau'ri's_  attempts to destroy us are futile and their explorations of our domains a hindrance. So far, the costs of their operations have been minimal for our father, but the other System Lords find this little rebellion an encumbrance after what occurred with Nirrti's latest experimentations and the release of Hathor."

"The sooner their rebellion is crushed, the less their kind will interfere in the future."

"A minor delay as father has proposed will not change this."

Sam nodded, her mind going light-years a minute. Even if she couldn't return to Earth anytime soon, she didn't want her own planet to be destroyed or enslaved by the Goa'uld; any information she could glean from Klorel might help her prevent the attack without drawing attention to herself. "Yes. We should discuss the details before we arrive at the assembly point. Together, we can perfect the attack by using my host's knowledge of the planet."

"Little effort and resources are required for an attack on her planet but it will yield a great victory for our father,  _meriu_. The System Lords will reward us for ridding them of the  _Tau'ri_ plague after we have destroyed the planet Ra lost thousands of years ago."

She knew Earth didn't have the defenses to fend off an attack from orbit, certainly not by the large Goa'uld motherships but clearly he and Apophis didn't. Not yet, at least. Besides, it probably wouldn't be as simple as blasting the planet into a gazillion little pieces considering Earth's size, layers, core and gravity: it was highly unlikely that even the Goa'uld had powerful enough weapons to blow it to smithereens and create a new asteroid belt – at least not without killing themselves in the process. They'd probably succeed in destroying the  _surface_  and making Earth inhabitable, though. "But how, my pharaoh?"

"We are superior to the  _Tau'ri_  and have ruled this galaxy for centuries. It would not be the first planet we attack, nor will it be the last," Klorel said, a pensive look on his face. "They will cower when they see our ships."

"An attack from orbit would most likely fail," she said, bluffing. "But landing our ships on their great pyramids or the mountain housing the stargate would intimidate them."

He smirked at her suggestion, clearly pleased by her input. "Yes, we will. We can attack their major strongholds before landing and then our Jaffa can continue aerial attacks, before we unleash them on the ground. We will enslave them all!"

"The humans on Earth aren't like the ones our, uh, ancestors planted on other planets thousands of years ago, my Lord. We have only encountered a dozen or so of the  _Tau'ri_  and already they are a hindrance to us: what about a planet with nearly six billion people on it? We know O'Neill and his people won't go down without a fight, but is it realistic for us to enslave so many humans?"

He didn't respond right away and Sam could almost feel his discomfort as he mulled it over. "Regardless of the unusually large population, we will succeed in our goal. We do not  _need_  that many human slaves. We already have your host, Herit, and perhaps we will capture the  _shol'va_ , O'Neill and their other leaders. The remainder of the population will be killed."

Jack! The memory of him with his kind yet intense brown eyes came to her mind unbidden at the mention of his name. She gave herself a mental shake of the head to get rid of the image. She couldn't afford to be distracted by thinking of him, not at such a crucial point. Jack O'Neill probably didn't even remember her, or at least wouldn't make the connection between the woman he'd spent the night with all those weeks – months? – ago and the 'killed' captain on SG-7. "Why?"

"It will bring father great pleasure to torture them for their insolence and it will torment my host to see his  _O'Neill_  suffer. The  _shol'va_  must die the most painful death possible for a Jaffa: removal of his  _prim'ta_. I do not know father's plans for O'Neill but he will most likely be killed or made a host himself for his acts against Apophis and recruiting the  _shol'va_. Would you like that,  _meriu_? For O'Neill to be made a host?" A thoughtful pause followed during which he watched her, as if trying to read her and smirked. "Or perhaps we shall place him in your  _khen_ , so he may please you… in other ways."

Sam thought she recognized the word from when Klorel had talked about making her his concubine and she'd ended up in his harem. Jack, a male concubine? In spite of not knowing him very well she was pretty sure he'd rather die than be used as a sex slave for a Goa'uld.


	24. Mission

**Stargate Command**   
**Colorado Springs, CO**   
**October 14, 1997**

Jack headed for Catherine's lab, knowing the scientist would be present despite any activity at the SGC being suspended. The rest of the team had been with her before he went to talk to Hammond, so he figured he could inform them all at once about Kinsey shutting down the Program. He wasn't looking forward to telling them, especially not Catherine after all her past efforts to get it reinstated after her father's research in the forties. Daniel was gonna be devastated to have his only shot at rescuing Sha're taken away from him, Teal'c wouldn't get a chance to go back home… and Kershaw, well, she'd just get reassigned in a few weeks' time and go where the Air Force told her to go.

He sighed and entered without knocking, all the while wondering if it was fair to ask any of them to risk their lives – and freedom – on an unsanctioned mission. "So," he said, announcing his presence.

"Jack! What did the General say?" Daniel asked, jumping up from his seat.

"Hammond couldn't convince Kinsey," he said, shrugging. "They'll bury the gate the day after tomorrow."

Teal'c barely reacted, clearly having expected it. "I must return home before then."

Jack shook his head in response but before he could say anything, Catherine threw a stack of reports in a nearby box.

"That, that… that bureaucrat!" She said furiously.

"I wonder what Kinsey will say when the Goa'uld arrive and destroy the White House from orbit," Daniel grumbled. "We can't let that happen, Jack. We've got to find a way to gate to those coordinates from the alternate reality!"

Kershaw, who had been pretty quiet up until then, started pacing in the small space. "Even if we could get through somehow, how do you expect just a few of us to stop an attack from a Goa'uld fleet?"

"Well, we'd have a lot better chance now than we would trying to stop an overwhelming onslaught later. Trust me - I have seen it."

Teal'c inclined his head in agreement. "If the coordinates are for a Goa'uld world which is not on the Abydos cartouche, the Goa'uld will most likely not expect us. I believe a medical attack could be successful."

"Surgical attack, Teal'c. It's called a surgical attack," Jack corrected automatically.

"So," Daniel said, "we're in agreement? We find a way to go through?"

Jack looked at each of his team, gauging their willingness and motives and let his gaze rest on the youngest member. "We would be in gross violation of orders, Kershaw. You'd be risking everything you've worked so hard for and if you can manage to avoid these kinds of black marks on your jacket, then you'll have a bright future ahead of you in the Air Force. We'll likely get court-martialed  _if_  we get back."

She stopped her pacing and turned to fully face him. "I don't know about you, Sir, but I think I'd rather take my chances at a court-martial than an alien invasion."

"You sure, Lieutenant? I can't order you to go on an unsanctioned mission."

"And you can't order me  _not_  to go, either," she said, with a small smirk.

Satisfied with her response, Jack clapped his hands. "Well, looks like we've got a mission to prep."

Catherine sighed loudly, shaking her head. "I wish I could contribute in some way, but I'm afraid I'm far too old to accompany you."

"And you've got someone who needs you waiting for you at home," Jack said, referring to Ernest. "I never expected you to participate, Catherine."

"Um," Daniel said, looking between the two of them, "we do need someone to operate the dialing computer."

"Daniel, no. We can do it ourselves."

Catherine patted his arm and smiled. "He makes a good point, actually. The klaxons will go off the moment anyone tries to access the dialing protocols. Everything on this level will be locked down, including the gate room, Jack. No, you four get geared up and meet back at the gate room. I'll access the dialing computer and dial Daniel's coordinates, that way you can go through the stargate before anyone can unlock the gate room."

"Catherine-"

"Don't even try to stop me, Jack O'Neill. My father started all this over fifty years ago and I'll be damned if I don't finish it. I'll dial and go over the MALP data before giving you the green light. I'm your girl on this," she said with a wink.

Jack raised his hands in supplication. "Fine, you're in. But that's it, no one else." He didn't want to involve anyone else, even though he knew Lou Ferretti and a lot of other folks would be with him if he asked. Besides, they'd be stealthier with just the four of them. "Be careful, Catherine." He signaled his team and they all got up, heading for the door.

"You four better get back in one piece," she called after them.

He acknowledged her comment with a wave of his hand, before taking his team to get geared up. There had only been a skeleton crew on base for over a week now, so they could easily make their way around the base without raising any suspicion. The packs and weapons were all still in their regular spot and fifteen minutes later, they found themselves in the gate room. The MALP had only slowed them down a little bit, but in that time Catherine had made her way to the control room and took her seat at the dialing computer.

The klaxons went off the moment the gate started dialing but they ignored them, sending the MALP through the open wormhole.

"No life signs in the immediate vicinity of the probe," Catherine said through the intercom. "It's dark, though. Infrared shows Ancient Egyptian décor, possibly Goa'uld. Breathable atmosphere."

"Guess that's our signal," Jack said, glancing up at her. "Thank you, Catherine."

She stood, smiling and threw a mock salute at them. "Godspeed, SG-1."

Jack and Kershaw returned her salute, his for once as sharp as his 2IC's, and turned back to the gate, weapons and night vision goggles at the ready. "Let's head out." With that, he herded his team through the gate.

He pulled his night vision goggles down and scanned their surroundings. Still no signs of life, just a few crates. Satisfied, Jack removed the goggles and turned on his flashlight and his team followed his example. He ordered Daniel to send the MALP back, as a sign of goodwill to Hammond. His commander would undoubtedly be mad with him, but he was pretty sure Hammond would've been there with them if he could.

The team fanned out at his command and soon Teal'c called his name, showing them a bunch of Goa'uld hand weapons in a crate.

"This is a Goa'uld  _zat'nik'tel_. A weapon using a different form of energy less powerful than that of a staff weapon. Less destructive but still quite deadly."

"How deadly, exactly?"

"The Goa'uld take great pleasure in discharging the weapon only once on a subject, causing him great pain, disabling but not killing him. A second shot will kill most subjects."

Jack nodded in understanding, hoping he wouldn't get to experience the 'great pain' himself. Hopefully, the fact that they were in a crate meant the Jaffa in the compound weren't carrying any of those zat guns. "Okay, one shot hurts 'em, two shots kill 'em. Third shot…?"

Teal'c raised a brow and inclined his head. "Indeed. A third shot disintegrates."

"That's… good to know," he said, a little horrified. "You hear that kids? Avoid getting shot three times."

"Yes, Sir," Kershaw replied.

Daniel grimaced in their direction, but accepted one of the weapons T handed him. "Um, I think I'll just avoid getting shot entirely, if you don't mind."

Jack was about to give him a smart-ass retort, when a loud whining noise sounded. It was unlike anything he'd heard before but in the past twenty years or so, he'd learned unfamiliar sounds that were building in intensity usually meant trouble. "What the hell's that?"

"I am unsure, O'Neill."

The sound continued to build, before there was a clunking noise and a shimmer was visible. All of a sudden, some unseen force threw Jack across the room. "Ow," he grumbled, looking around for his team. Teal'c was the only one still standing, Kershaw and Daniel were in a similar position as himself. "Everybody okay?"

"Yeah," Daniel said, "what was that?"

"No idea," Kershaw mumbled as she got to her feet, "but I'd prefer not to experience it again."

Teal'c, however, seemed alarmed. "We should dial home immediately."

Taking his cue from the big guy, Jack jerked his head towards the DHD. "Do it, Daniel."

"Um, nothing's happening."

They tried again to no avail. Their discussion about what was going on got interrupted by a door sliding open. Jack immediately signaled for everyone to take cover. A bunch of Jaffa came in, opened a crate and waited for a large metallic sphere to float out of it and into the stargate's center. Once the sphere was suspended in the circle, they left again.

"What do you guys think?" Daniel asked, gesturing at the white sphere.

"It is a Goa'uld long-range visual communication device. Somewhat like your television, only much further advanced."

"Someone remind me to get one of those things before we go home," Kershaw said. "It'll go great with my décor."

Jack, meanwhile, was looking out of a window or something. It didn't appear to be made of glass. And the view was something unexpected but actually kind of pretty. "We're not on a planet, are we, Teal'c?"

"That is correct. It appears we are aboard a Goa'uld transport vessel."

"A ship?"

"Indeed. What we experienced earlier was a hyperlaunch."

Jack groaned, cursing himself for going on this mission. And Daniel for convincing them all. "Great. So, we're on a ship light-years from home with a stargate that isn't working."

"Well, I guess the stargate isn't working because we're in… hyperspace," Kershaw said, frowning.

"Christina is right," Daniel said. "We must have been in orbit when we gated here and when it left, there was no valid point of origin anymore."

"That is correct."

Sighing, Jack moved over to the wall and started searching for a doorknob. "Well, I suggest you find us a way to get back home, Daniel."

"Right, I'll just go tell the pilot."

"Can't you fly it, Teal'c?"

"I am unsure, Lieutenant Kershaw. It appears to be of a new technology."

Jack slammed his hand against the wall in frustration, before beckoning Teal'c over to open the damn door. "Okay, so, assuming Daniel's little trip to Wonderland applies to our reality as well, then this ship is most likely part of the fleet bound for Earth. So, the way I see it is we have two choices: we overpower the ship and Teal'c pilots us back so we can gate home, or we blow this thing up before it reaches our planet."

"I concur, O'Neill," Teal'c said, as he opened the door.

"Okay, so let's take a look around. Teal'c takes point, I'll bring up the rear."

They roamed the corridors, only encountering one group of Jaffa. Teal'c signaled for them to take cover behind one of the numerous columns off to the center of the path. They were rather conveniently placed, Jack thought. But he was soon distracted when he recognized the figure leading the Jaffa; it was Skaara! Before he could do or say anything though, Teal'c took hold of him. And damn, if he wasn't right. It was clear Skaara was their leader and not a prisoner, which meant the Goa'uld still had control of the Abydonian boy. He'd already attacked Jack once, back on Chulak, and right now they needed a plan before Jack acted on his emotions. There was more at stake here than Skaara; Jack couldn't fail his team after taking them along on this mission. The safety of Earth had priority.

Once the group had passed, Teal'c continued to lead them until they reached a bay full of death gliders. From the looks of it, they were being prepared for launch.

"You were right, Jack; we're on an attack ship headed to Earth."

"Well, fuck," he muttered. "Okay, we've got some problems then. How fast can this ship go, Teal'c?"

"A Goa'uld  _ha'tak_  vessel can travel at ten times the speed of light."

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to recall Catherine's report on the coordinates Daniel had given her a few weeks ago. "Um, assuming this ship was in orbit of a planet when we came here, Daniel's coordinates were actually those of a planet. Based on that and the ship's speed, it would probably take… what, a year, to reach Earth?"

Daniel turned pensive for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah, I'd say that's pretty close."

"Assuming this ship travels ten times the speed of light," Kershaw said. "No offense Teal'c, but you said it yourself: this ship is an upgraded version of the ones you know."

"You are correct, Lieutenant Kershaw. Death gliders would also not be prepared so far in advance under normal circumstances."

"So, either our math is off or this ship goes a lot faster," Daniel concluded. "What does that mean?"

Jack chuckled mirthlessly. "It means we're screwed. Okay, okay… Lieutenant, do you have the C4?"

"Yes, Sir."

"We're gonna split up. I want you and Daniel to start planting C4 all over this ship. Try to determine strategic places using your knowledge of aircrafts. They both have to fly, after all."

"And what are you and Teal'c going to do?"

Jack used his thumb to point over his shoulder, the direction from which they came. "You saw Skaara with those Jaffa? We're gonna try and grab him, Daniel."

"What?!" Daniel exclaimed, eyes wide. "That's like taking on Apophis and that didn't turn out very well for us, remember?"

"He's super strong, Sir," Kershaw chimed in.

He nodded and stepped closer to her. "I know, that's why I'm taking Teal'c with me," he explained, before clasping her shoulder and leaning in. "Look, you can do this, Kershaw. You've proven yourself to be a capable officer this past year and I trust you more than anyone to plant that C4. Just watch your six and keep Daniel out of trouble, okay?"

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "I can do this."

"You can."

She nodded, screwing up her courage. "Do you really think you can save Skaara, Sir?"

"They do not know we are aboard. There would be little reason to keep him under heavy guard," Teal'c said.

"It's the best strategic decision."

"Jack has a point. If we can capture him, maybe we can get through to the old Skaara. Kendra said that she could fight past her Goa'uld when it was still inside of her," Daniel said, referring to the former host they met on Cimmeria four months ago.

When he saw understanding dawning on the Lieutenant's face, Jack checked the corridor to see if it was safe. "Okay, let's head out."

"Sir, what's our contingency plan?"

"C4 on a timer."

Daniel shot out his arm, grabbing hold of him. "Wait! What do we do afterwards? I mean, the C4 is just in case we can't overpower the Goa'uld and change the course. Right?"

"Yeah," Jack said, although he wasn't sure himself. "We'll meet up at… Teal'c?"

"The Goa'uld in Skaara will most likely be at the  _peltac_."

"That's the, um, bridge?"

"Indeed."

Daniel took a deep breath and squeezed his arm. "Okay, we'll see you two there, then. With Skaara. Good luck."

Kershaw handed her pack to Daniel with instructions to collect the C4 so they could divide it up between the two of them and stepped forward, out of the archaeologist's earshot. "Sir, I just wanted to say… you know, in case we don't make it… it was an honor serving with you, Colonel."

"Hey, none of that now, Lieutenant. We've got a job to do to prevent an attack on Earth and we're damn well gonna succeed. I trust you to take care of the C4 and keep Daniel safe. Then we'll meet up at the bridge. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good," Jack nodded, and turned to Teal'c. "Lead the way."

They moved through so many corridors that Jack lost count and he could only hope Kershaw and Daniel could find their way here. Assuming they managed to plant all the C4 without getting caught or, worse, killed. He pushed that thought away, as he needed to fully focus on the task at hand. Kershaw was a green lieutenant but she could do this, he was sure of it. Now he just had to trust her to take care of her part of the equation, while he and Teal'c went for Skaara.

Teal'c counted down before they burst onto the bridge, using the zat guns to take out all the present Jaffa. Skaara was just activating his ribbon device to aim it at Jack when Teal'c grabbed the Goa'uld from behind. His sheer size and strength plus the element of surprise meant he could easily overpower the young Abydonian and remove the ribbon device from his wrist.

"You dare do this to Klorel? You will die a painful death!"

"Klorel?" Jack questioned, brows raised. "Never heard of him. Who's that?"

"Insolence! I am your god, the Mighty Warrior Klorel!"

Teal'c let him rant before indicating the door. "O'Neill, push and turn the raised glyph of a coiled serpent to close the door."

Jack moved to do it and, just for good measure, fired his zat at it. That would probably short-circuit it and block anyone's attempt to open it. Turning back around, he smiled. "Hey Skaara. Long time, no see. C'mon, Skaara, think. Try to remember me. I'm Jack O'Neill and the burly guy holding you is Teal'c."

"Ah, Teal'c, the  _shol'va_. I will take great pleasure in delivering his head to my father," Klorel said, lifting his chin defiantly.

"Apophis is not your father. That's sick. Kasuf is your father and he's anxious for you to return to Abydos."

Klorel narrowed his eyes and struggled against Teal'c's grip. "The Serpent God Apophis is my father. He seeded the queen mother and chose the host in which I will live out eternity. Apophis gave me life."

"All right, I'm not talking to that thing in your head. I'm talking to Skaara."

"Nothing of the host survives. Your friend had a feeble mind. It suffered greatly and gave in easily."

"That's bullshit." When the Goa'uld started laughing, Jack slugged him in the jaw in the hopes of bringing out Skaara. "C'mon Skaara. Look at me. Try."

Klorel used the tip of his tongue to lick away the blood trickling down from his injured nose. "Perhaps I will not kill you. Perhaps you will make a good host yourself, or I will hand you over to my mate to do with as she pleases."

Jack rolled his eyes and looked up at Teal'c. "All right, promise me this thing won't kill him."

"Two shots will. One shot will only cause him great pain."

"So here's the deal. Let him out, let him talk to me, or you get the whole load."

Chuckling, Klorel shook his head. "You will only hurt your friend."

"He's a tough kid."

"Your friend is too afraid to come forward. He enjoys my protection. He really does not wish to speak with you."

Jack gestured towards Teal'c to release the Goa'uld as he readied his zat gun. "Is that right? Let him go, Teal'c. Let him go."

Klorel groaned and fell to the floor when the blue charge from the zat gun enveloped him. "Sha're! Daniel!"

Jack kneeled down in front of him, while Teal'c grabbed hold of him just in case. "Skaara. Hey there."

"O'Neill! Oh, it hurts."

"I know, kid. I'm sorry."

Skaara looked up at him, insecurity written all over his face. "O'Neill, are you still my friend?"

"Yes, I am."

"Can you forgive me for what we are about to do?" He asked, head lowered in shame.

Jack grabbed him by the shoulders, "What are you about to do? Skaara!" He shook him, "Skaara, what are you about to do?!"

"Please forgive us."

"Us? Who, Skaara? Hang in there kid, c'mon, hang on! What are you about to do and with whom?"

"Your woman…"

Jack stared at him, stunned. "'My woman'? Sam? Skaara, tell me!"

Suddenly, Skaara's eyes flashed and he reared back. "Jaffa!  _Nok kree tol_!"

"Crap," he said, looking over his shoulder. Jaffa were succeeding in opening the door. He jumped to his feet and helped Teal'c to restrain Klorel.

A bunch of Jaffa stormed onto the bridge. "Drop your weapon. Release Klorel now."

Teal'c tried to negotiate with them, threatening to kill the Goa'uld but the Jaffa called his bluff, knowing they wouldn't kill the host, Skaara. They were forced to lower their weapons and release Klorel. Jack's last thought was about Kershaw with the C4 and then he went down in agony, as the blue charge of a zat gun encircled him.

By the time he regained consciousness his body was sore and a Jaffa had dragged him and Teal'c back to the gate room, where Apophis and Klorel were discussing their fates via the white comm orb. Apophis ordered Junior to be removed from Teal'c's pouch so he would die a slow and painful death and he wanted Jack to watch. Then, Klorel could execute Jack in whichever way he wanted or hand him over to Herit, whoever that was.

Klorel, however, took them back to the bridge first instead of letting two priests use their ceremonial knives to remove Teal'c's symbiote. Jack felt a glimmer of hope that maybe Skaara wasn't lost yet when he disobeyed Apophis' command.

"You wish to go home to your planet,  _Tau'ri_?"

"Of course."

"Jaffa," Klorel said, turning to one at a console, " _krel tak remoc_."

"O'Neill, prepare yourself for-"

Jack was thrown against the control panel before Teal'c had finished his sentence. He groaned and rubbed his head, as he tried to get up.

"-extreme deceleration."

"Thanks, Teal'c." He got to his feet and rubbed a hand over his sore back, before laying eyes on the view screen. "Oh my God," he said at the sight of Saturn.

"You will get to see your home one last time, before you, and everyone on your planet, are destroyed. And your kind will disturb the Goa'uld no more. Jaffa, go to my chambers and invite Herit to join me at the  _peltac_  to witness our attack on the  _Tau'ri._ "

"Yes, my Lord," the Jaffa said, bowing his head and exiting the  _peltac_. Suddenly, he shouted, "Kree!" as smoke became visible in the door opening.

It took Jack a moment to recall the smoke grenades he'd grabbed from the armory and given to Kershaw. He watched as more Jaffa ran to the corridor and Klorel looked around confused when weapon's fire was audible.

Suddenly, Kershaw and Daniel entered the  _peltac_ , firing at the remaining Jaffa. Without a word, Teal'c and Jack each turned on their guards. Together, they took out all the Jaffa, but Klorel managed to grab hold of Daniel whose gun fell to the floor and used his ribbon device on him.

"Skaara! Skaara, don't!" Jack shouted as he grabbed the fallen weapon and Daniel dropped to his knees.

"O'Neill, you must take action!"

Torn, Jack raised his arm. "Skaara!" His eyes darted from Skaara's evil expression to Daniel's pained face, before making a decision. Two shots was all it took for the Goa'uld to fall to the floor, bleeding.

"Daniel! Are you okay?" Kershaw asked, after darting over to him to help him sit up.

Jack kneeled next to Skaara's body, his heart aching when he looked up at him with that boyish expression he knew so well from his time on Abydos. "Skaara?"

"O'Neill."

"Ah, Skaara, I'm sorry."

He shook his head minimally and visibly swallowed. "You released me from the demon…"

"Wait," Jack said, cupping his face. "What you said earlier, about my woman. Skaara? What did you mean? Skaara!"

"I…" His breathing halted and, with a last smile, he closed his eyes, head lolling to the side.

"Skaara?!"

"O'Neill-"

"Yeah, gime a second, here," he said, voice thick with emotions.

Teal'c placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I cannot."

"It's Earth, Sir."

Jack looked up at the view screen and huffed. "I guess this ship can go way faster than ten times the speed of light."

"Colonel, we saw the death gliders. They're prepping for launch, Sir."

He nodded in understanding and got to his feet. "Were you able to put enough C4 around this ship to make a dent, Lieutenant?"

"I did as you told me to, Sir. They're placed to generate secondary explosions. Should make a hell of a dent."

"Good job. We should expect some of their reinforcements through that door any second. Stand by to detonate your charges on my order."

Daniel reached into his vest and retrieved a pack of C4. "Wait! Let's just make a big a dent as possible, okay?"

Kershaw waited until Daniel had placed his block at the console. "Ready and awaiting your order, sir."

"O'Neill, Apophis' ship approaches."

"Damn," he said, gesturing at Kershaw to hold off.

"We overheard some Jaffa saying he would rejoin Klorel once they came out of the shadows."

Jack turned to Teal'c and sighed, "Teal'c, if we can knock out this ship, will it stop them?"

The Jaffa shook his head. "It will not. Apophis's vessel will be equipped with defense shields. He will still be able to destroy your cities from high above."

Noises from Jaffa trying to breach the door to the  _peltac_  were audible as Jack tried to come up with a solution. Blowing themselves up wouldn't be any good if that still left Apophis to attack Earth… "Tell me those C4 charges are on automatic timer."

"Twenty-four hours. At the time, sir, I thought we were still light-years away."

"Teal'c, work with me, buddy, is there any other way out of here?" He asked, as the banging on the doors got louder.

"None."

The Jaffa broke the door open and started shooting. Jack ordered his team to take cover but suddenly there was a loud explosion with bright lights, knocking him unconscious.

* * *

**Klorel and Herit's Mothership**   
**Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy**

Sam peered at the screen of her console. Ever since her last session in the sarcophagus the alien language started to make more sense to her. She suspected Herit's knowledge had somehow blended with hers and could only hope it didn't go both ways considering all the things she'd been keeping from the Goa'uld. Her left hand subconsciously went to her abdomen, where she could definitely feel a light swelling. She knew it wouldn't take much longer for it to be obvious and then Klorel would see it too, which was why she'd decided today was the day.

The door to her chambers opened suddenly and she quickly flicked off the screen, turning to see who was coming. "Master Bra'tac."

The Jaffa looked at her with his dark, intense eyes and barely inclined his head in respect. "My Lady. We have taken some  _Tau'ri_  aboard the ship captive."

She raised a brow, wondering if he was expecting more of a reaction. "And?"

"Klorel showed them to Apophis via the long-range communication device and he ordered them to be executed. However, there were two more intruders who came to their rescue. In the ensuing fight, the  _Tau'ri_  intruders were captured but Klorel was killed."

Barely suppressing a gasp at the news, Sam steadied herself stealthily on the console. He was dead? Who could it be from the SGC? Did they know about her? Had they come for her? No, that wasn't possible. No one would know about her, not even Grieves could know what had happened after he betrayed her by leaving her behind for dead. What if it was Jack's team, SG-1? She immediately discarded the notion because she knew neither Jack or Doctor Jackson would kill Klorel, not when his host was the young Abydonian. "Killed?" She said quietly.

"I have placed him in the sarcophagus, my Lady."

Damn! "Well done, Bra'tac. Is it possible there are more intruders?"

"No, we searched the vessel and have found none."

"Yet two of them escaped your notice earlier as well, resulting in an attack on your God."

Bra'tac lowered his head in shame. "Forgive me, Lady Herit."

"I will contact my father to inform him of the events myself and you will search the ship once more," she said. "Be thorough or you will pay the price, Jaffa."

"Yes, my Lady."

"Once you are absolutely certain there are no more intruders you will guard the prisoners." With that, she dismissed him and waited a beat before moving to the gate room.

She told the guards there to contact Apophis and dipped her head when he appeared. "Father."

"Herit," he acknowledged, smiling. " _Kel Klorel_?"

"He was struck down by the  _Tau'ri_  on this vessel."

Apophis was visibly irritated and narrowed his eyes. "Has he been placed in his sarcophagus?"

"Yes, I personally ensured it, father. His wounds were great and it will take time to revive him."

"What of the humans?"

"I have sent Bra'tac to search the ship once more, to ensure we have captured all of them. I am aware you told Klorel to kill them right away, but I know he would wish to take revenge himself after recent events."

Apophis's eyes glowed, "No! Execute them now!"

"Yes, father."

The orb misted over again before it turned dark. Sam left and detoured to the cells, not surprised to find Bra'tac there already. Clearly, he felt confident all the humans were locked up. There were two more Jaffa with him, one she recognized as Moac who'd also guarded her during her captivity and the other was unfamiliar. She stopped a few feet away from them, unable to get a look at the cell and its prisoners without rounding the corner.

"Lady Herit," Bra'tac said, both a greeting and announcement to his men.

The other two Jaffa bowed, "My Lady."

"The execution of the prisoners has been delayed." Sam knew she was taking a risk, but whoever the prisoners were, they were from Earth. Hell, even if it was Grieves with Isaacs and Adams, she would have taken the chance. "Klorel will execute them when he rises again. Together, we will launch an attack on the  _Tau'ri_. Their major cities will be destroyed from orbit; we will kill the majority of their population of nearly six billion and enslave their leaders. Without any spacefaring capabilities they will not be able to resist our attack from space. The prisoners will witness all of it, before we execute them or find other uses for them."

"Yes, my Lady," Bra'tac said.

Sam figured she had dropped enough hints for the humans in the cell, knowing they should be able to overhear her from this distance. "I will be in my chambers. Alert me when Klorel rises once more."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and left. If she wanted to sabotage the attack before her escape, then she had to go back over the schematics she had found. Now that she was capable of understanding most of the terminology of them, it was much easier to navigate them to pinpoint the weakest point.

When she arrived at her chambers, she immediately went over to her console and called up the blueprints she'd been studying earlier. There was no telling how long Klorel would be in the sarcophagus, but she estimated it would be at least a couple of hours. In the meantime, she could execute her plan without it being traced back to her and make her escape.

There!

Sam smirked as she saw the perfect opportunity. Even though it felt like a lifetime ago, she remembered the plans she'd made for the so-called "Goa'uld Buster", a prototype weapon, at the Pentagon a few months after the SGC was called into life. It used a Mark 12A warhead, enriched by naquadah and yielded in excess of a thousand megatons. The production mostly depended on the naquadah the SGC could obtain, but she knew at least one had been fully developed before she was assigned to design technology that could help SG teams off-world. If she disabled the defense shield then the mothership wouldn't stand a chance against a Goa'uld Buster.

Shutting off the console, she looked around the chambers and tried to decide how to proceed. Disabling the shields shouldn't be too difficult, but it would require time. It might be best to take her supplies with her, so she could go straight to the stargate after finishing up in the bowels of the ship.

It didn't take long for Sam to collect the things she would need and she bundled everything together, attaching it to the belt hidden under her cloak. Once she was done, she left the chambers without looking back and made her way down the corridors.


	25. The End

**Klorel and Herit's Mothership**   
**Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy**

Jack groaned when he woke up on a cold floor. His knees were throbbing and he was pretty sure his head had hit the floor on his way down. Blinking, he rubbed a hand over the sore spot and tried to take a look around. It was pitch black and he couldn't even see his own hand… "Uh, guys? Teal'c? Ahh! Teal'c, I can't see!"

"Same here," Daniel said.

"I am blinded as well," the Jaffa said, in a calming tone. "It will pass."

"What the hell was that?"

"A Goa'uld shock grenade. Though extremely painful, its effects are temporary."

He grimaced and sat up, patting the floor around him. "That's good to hear."

A groan sounded from his right, followed by the swishing of fabric. "Oh, hell. I feel like shit," Kershaw said. "How long until it wears off?"

"I cannot say for a human."

"Right now they're getting ready to wipe out the major cities of Earth. They'll do it from orbit, out of reach," Daniel said, all of a sudden. "Jack, I've already been through this once before. I've already seen this."

Jack sighed, rubbing his eyes. He knew they were screwed but as long as the Goa'uld didn't discover the planted C4 it wouldn't be for nothing. Daniel's yammering was getting on his nerves; what else did he expect from him? They were most likely imprisoned and couldn't see anything, so perhaps the archaeologist could wait a few minutes before expecting Jack to come up with a plan C. "Daniel, will you relax? You've been through it before, and you survived. We're just having a bad day."

"I think it's a little mo-"

"Colonel, I think I'm starting to see something," Kershaw said, interrupting Daniel.

"My sight returns as well."

Jack rubbed his hands together, pleased. "Now, that's what I want to hear. Tell me what you see."

Kershaw sighed to his right, "Um, not much. Just four walls and some blurry shapes I'm assuming are you guys."

"It appears to be a Goa'uld prison cell. There is only one door that opens from the outside and no windows. Escape is not possible."

"And now for the good news…?"

"There is none, O'Neill."

"I can't find my glasses, but I think I'm getting my sight back. I just can't recognize anything. So, um, what do you guys think they'll do with us?"

Kershaw harrumphed and got up, pacing the cell. "Execute us, maybe? The Colonel did kill Klorel, after all."

Jack didn't need a reminder of Skaara's crumpled form and didn't want to overthink his last words, so he turned towards where he thought Teal'c was sitting. "What's the usual SOP?"

"I am unsure. Earlier, when you were still unconscious, I overheard the Goa'uld Herit instruct the guards. Klorel has been placed in a sarcophagus and they are awaiting his return before executing us. However, it is possible Apophis will intervene in the meantime."

"Herit? We haven't heard that name before," Kershaw said.

"It, um, doesn't sound familiar."

Blinking, Jack realized his sight was returning as well and he looked in Daniel's direction. "Yeah well, if we get outta here alive, you can look up the name in your books. Anything else, T?"

"I believe the Goa'uld, or its host, was female."

Daniel jumped at that, his expression a mixture of hope and dread. "Could it have been Sha're?"

Teal'c looked pensive for a moment before shaking his head. "The voice did not sound familiar and there was no Abydonian accent."

"But that could have been the Goa'uld, right?"

Jack grimaced, unsure what to think. "You sure it wasn't Sha're's voice? It's got to be hard to tell with that distorted voice."

"She spoke in her human voice, Daniel Jackson."

Kershaw put her hand on Daniel's shoulder in silent support and made a face. "Did she say anything else?"

When Teal'c seemed to hesitate, Jack's curiosity was piqued. "What, Teal'c?"

"She revealed her plans for the  _Tau'ri_  homeworld and told the Jaffa that they will destroy the major cities from orbit and kill the majority of your population."

"Just like what happened in the other reality," Daniel said, huffing.

"There's more?" Jack guessed, gesturing for T to continue.

"She wished for us to witness the destruction, well aware that the  _Tau'ri_  have no spacefaring capabilities with which to defend themselves."

Kershaw groaned and rubbed a hand in her eyes, "Well, she's not wrong."

"… but how would she know?" Jack mused aloud.

Teal'c inclined his head in affirmation, holding his gaze. "Her estimation of your population was specific as well. Nearing six billion."

"Maybe this ship has sensors that can scan for human life signs," Daniel suggested, shrugging.

"Perhaps the host is  _Tau'ri_."

Jack nodded slowly, his mind already having come to the same conclusion as Teal'c. Could the Goa'uld, this Herit, be inside of Sam? Was that what Skaara meant when he talked about Jack's 'woman'? The Goa'uld would have unrestricted access to Sam's mind and could easily discover their connection and all the information they needed about Earth and… "The SGC."

"But if it was Captain Carter then why haven't they attacked earlier, Sir? And why use ships-"

"Silence," Teal'c said, raising one hand.

Jack followed his gaze to the door and figured the Jaffa's advanced hearing must have heard someone coming. Sure enough, only a moment or two later they all heard footsteps approaching. "Teal'c?"

Together, they took up positions on either side of the door before it opened. A Serpent Guard entered before the door closed again and it took Jack a moment to recognize the Jaffa. "Bra'tac?"

Bra'tac looked up and hit him in the face. "Fools!  _Hasshak_! You doom yourselves. It is all I can do to keep you alive. Do you know all I have done to regain the trust of Apophis and join this campaign? Hm? Hm?"

" _Tek ma te_ , Bra'tac," Teal'c said, as Jack could only look on from where he'd collapsed and nursed his jaw.

"Hello again, old friend. Your son grows strong. One day he will be a great warrior. But you should not have come."

"I stand by my friends. I believe this world may be our only hope in one day overcoming the false gods."

Bra'tac snorted derisively and shook his head. "Yes. As pathetic as that may seem at the moment, I agree."

"You do?" Daniel asked, stepping forward.

Jack was just getting up when the old Jaffa replied. "I may even have been able to save this world had you not interfered."

"Hey! What do you think we've been trying to do? It is our world you're talking about here."

"Enough, human! This is not the place to talk of these things. Apophis has ordered you all to be executed—an order I intend to disregard. Come!"

Well, when he put it that way, Jack thought as the door opened again and Bra'tac led them out of the cell. "Let's go," he said to his team.

Bra'tac stopped when they rounded the corner where another Jaffa was standing guard. He turned back to SG-1, "This is Moac. He will hand you your weapons. You will need them."

"Erm, Bra'tac, you mentioned something about saving the world. Care to elaborate on that?" Jack asked as the younger Jaffa handed him their weapons and he passed them along to his team.

He looked at him and shook his head again. "By assaulting Klorel, you have made that impossible."

Daniel awkwardly holstered his weapon and looked up. "Um, why?"

"Among the Goa'uld, a Pharaoh's power is more often challenged by their sons than by their enemies. Once we had joined battle with your world, I was prepared to lead my wing against Apophis, in Klorel's name."

"Apophis would assume your attack was ordered by Klorel and reciprocate. A daring plan!"

Bra'tac smirked at the awe and respect in Teal'c's tone. "I had hoped to drive a stake of mistrust between them. Now I fear they will bond against their common enemy."

"Teal'c said a female Goa'uld mentioned Klorel was in the sarcophagus. You put him in there?"

"Hmm, Herit. Klorel's mate. I knew letting him heal would delay their attack until he arose. Perhaps when the warships of your world attack…"

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face before letting out a deep sigh. "Oh yeah. Yeah, bad day."

"We must leave, human," Bra'tac said, signaling Moac to lead the way. "Klorel will rise soon and then the campaign begins. Once we launch, we will do what damage we can."

"Kershaw, the C4?"

She checked her watch and smirked. "A little under an hour, Sir."

"Okay, with any luck at all, this ship is going to blow within the hour. It might be a good idea for us to get to the other one. Can you do that?"

Bra'tac nodded and turned down another corridor. They had been walking through numerous corridors before the three Jaffa stopped simultaneously at a strange sound. Despite Teal'c's warning, Jack and his two human teammates were thrown to the ground when the ship decelerated. That alarmed Bra'tac who explained it meant Klorel had arisen already. So, the plan changed; they'd capture Klorel before going over to Apophis' ship.

On their way to the bridge, there was a moment during which the whole ship shook. Even the three Jaffa looked surprised.

"Something must have impacted the shields."

"Indeed, Teal'c is correct. Perhaps the ships of your world are attacking?"

Jack grimaced and exchanged glances with Daniel. "Um, yeah. Maybe. We better keep going though, before the C4 goes off."

It didn't take them long to reach the bridge, after which Bra'tac simply just walked in under the guise of being Klorel's loyal servant.

The team was waiting anxiously in the corridor, only a few feet away from the door. Moac was standing a little farther away to keep an eye out for any hostiles.

Klorel's distorted voice rang out, " _Jaffa, kree tal!_  I am your god and you will feel my wrath!"

Jack's grip on his MP5 tightened when he heard Bra'tac say something about dying free. Oh no, that old coot wasn't gonna die on him before he got them to Apophis' ship! He turned back to his team, "Let's go! Daniel, watch our backs."

Teal'c stormed onto the bridge first and Jack and Kershaw followed, firing as they went. Together, they mowed down all of the Jaffa. Bra'tac collapsed on the floor when Teal'c overpowered Klorel, but not before the Goa'uld called out for reinforcements.

"Secure him," Jack ordered, before turning to Kershaw. "Lieutenant, make sure they're all dead."

"Jack!"

At Daniel's cry, he turned around and went back into the corridor. Once there, he found Daniel on the floor with a chest wound. "Daniel!" Kneeling next to him, he tried to see how bad it was. "Oh, damn it!"

"I'll be dead anyway. Just get out of here!" He said, pushing him away.

"I am not leaving you here, Daniel."

"Get out of here! You're just going to blow up with the other ship anyway," Daniel yelled back, as he tried to pull him up. "What difference does it make? Go!"

Jack let go of him, knowing his friend was right but… God, how could he leave him behind?!

"Just go! I'll stay—and watch your back."

Damn, but he hated it when he was right. He leaned in and patted Daniel's cheek, not having a clue as to what to say. There were no words, really. Not after everything they had gone through together since that first mission to Abydos. He swallowed hard and got up. "We'll get that bastard, I promise."

"Good luck," Daniel said, before turning his gaze back to the corridor and raising his weapon.

Jack went back onto the bridge, pushing back his emotions, and shook his head at his teammates' questioning looks. "He's staying behind."

"Sir-"

"We've got a job to do, Kershaw."

Bra'tac nodded at him, understanding and respect in his gaze. "Moac will show you the way to the transport rings."

"You're not coming with?" Jack asked, frowning.

"I have already helped capture Klorel for you," Bra'tac said, smirking. "You do not need me to escort him to Apophis, O'Neill. No, I will disable the shields, alter the course of this vessel and locate Klorel's mate before she discovers his fate. Now, go!"

Jack was torn for a moment; he knew they needed to get off this ship to stop Apophis before the C4 went off and if they failed, Apophis would still be able to attack Earth and Daniel – and possibly all of them – would have died for nothing. However, there  _was_  the possibility that Sam was the host to this Herit… he was tempted to go with Bra'tac, help search for her but then what? If he found her, she'd still be a Goa'uld and things hadn't exactly gone well when they tried to remove Kawalsky's snake – and that Asgard device on Cimmera had been destroyed by Daniel's staff blast.

And hell, even  _if_  he found her in time, it  _was_  Sam  _and_  there  _had_  been a way to safely remove the Goa'uld, then how could he possibly do all that and get them to safety before the C4 went off? He would never forgive himself if he let his emotions influence his decision and Earth paid the price. Tightening his grip on his weapon, he nodded. "Good luck."

Bra'tac "hm'ed" before turning around and running off, while Jack let Moac lead the way to the transport rings, with Kershaw and Teal'c in the middle with Klorel, while he brought up the rear.

* * *

It had taken her longer than expected but in the end, Sam finally disabled the shields. The crystal technology amazed her and made it more difficult to accomplish. However, she was pretty confident that she'd managed to do it without it tracing back to her. Not that it mattered; with any luck, she'd be gone before anyone even realized the shields weren't working.

Sam had put her bundle of things aside while working on the bowels of the ship, but getting a mild electrical shock from the crystals made her realize she'd forgotten the healing device that belonged to Herit. The device was about the size of her palm and while she hadn't used it, she figured it could come in handy while she was on the run.

She went back to her chambers to retrieve it and, while there, decided to grab some more clothes and enough food to last her a week. She wrapped it up tightly and wore it like a backpack underneath her cloak. Once finished, she moved back to the mirror and touched up her hair and makeup. After righting her clothes and the cloak, she took a deep breath and headed for the gate room.

There were still four Jaffa guarding the stargate, much to Sam's dismay. She'd hoped they would be gone, what with the attack on Earth and everything. She straightened her back and tried to look as regal as possible as she entered the room.

"You," she said, looking at two of the Serpent Guards, "remove the  _nu techet her ta'ami_."

"My Lady," the bigger Jaffa said, eyes darting from her to the white orb suspended in the gate's center, "we cannot."

Damn. She gritted her teeth and decided to take a leaf from Klorel's book. "How dare you defy me?!"

The Jaffa visibly winced but made no move to carry out her orders. "Apophis himself commanded us to guard the  _chaapa'ai_  and not remove the  _nu techet her ta'ami_ , to prevent anyone from establishing a connection."

"Insolence! I am your Goddess and you will do as I please," Sam said with narrowed eyes. "I am my father's  _ȧṭen_  and  _s'heni_  of this vessel: I command you to carry out my order, before I find someone else who will and be forced to punish you for your defiance!"

"Herit."

Turning around, Sam saw Bra'tac had entered the gate room. Damn it. What did he want? Had Apophis or Klorel sent him? Had he or one of them discovered the truth? "Bra'tac," she said slowly. "What brings you here?"

"I was searching for you, my Lady."

"I am leaving." Sam paused, searching her mind for an explanation. Finally, she improvised, "Klorel wishes for me to visit Amaunet and relocate her. The  _Tau'ri_  were roaming free this vessel for far too long before you captured them, Bra'tac. They could have discovered her location if they accessed our systems."

" _Tchaas_  Bra'tac," the bigger Jaffa said, stepping forward. "Apophis commanded us to guard-"

He raised his hand, cutting him off. "My Lady, I came to inform you that Klorel is momentarily aboard Apophis' vessel and he will return shortly. As your mate's First Prime, I will accompany you to visit the Goddess Amaunet."

God damn it! Instead of venting her anger and frustration, Sam simply smiled and reluctantly agreed. "Very well. We must leave at once."

"Remove the  _nu techet her ta'ami_ ," Bra'tac barked at the four Serpent Guards.

Sam stepped up to the DHD and dialed the coordinates Klorel had entrusted her with and stepped aside as the gate activated. How the hell was she going to make a getaway when Bra'tac was with her? She lowered her gaze and looked at the hand device on her wrist, where it glinted in the light of the event horizon and she knew there was just one way to take care of this problem.

She could only hope there wasn't anyone waiting on the other side of the wormhole or things might really get complicated…

* * *

Suddenly, Jack saw the rings appear in front of him as their white light faded. Whoa. He leveled his MP5 when the transport rings receded into the floor. Just in time too, because he was faced with a bunch of angry and armed Jaffa. He could almost feel the tension in his teammates when Apophis stepped forward.

" _Kree, Jaffa!_ " Apophis commanded, waving his hand with his gaze on Klorel being held hostage at gunpoint. The Jaffa lowered their staff weapons at the command as his eyes glowed dangerously.

"Come, come, come," Moac urged, leading them to an adjoining room.

"If you fire upon us," Teal'c threatened, walking backwards and pulling their hostage with him, "I will kill Klorel."

Jack finally found the button to open the door as he heard Moac yelling at his false God. Just before he herded his team inside, he heard the sound of a staff weapon firing and was relieved to see it was their new friend doing the shooting – destroying the console of Apophis' ship – and the hostile Jaffa were still holding their fire. Teal'c was the last to enter the room and pushed Klorel away, towards Apopis, before Jack closed the door. He looked away when Teal'c sealed the door by firing his zat at it, the light bright in the darkened room.

"Colonel, the C4 on the other ship goes in six minutes," Kershaw reported, as if reading his mind.

"That leaves us with a little less than six minutes to find a way to destroy this one."

Teal'c smirked, "Master Bra'tac directed Klorel's vessel closer to this one before we left. If we disable the shield generator of this vessel, both will be destroyed in the explosion. Two birds with but one stone."

Jack looked to Moac, raising his brow. "Yeah? That work for ya?"

"Indeed, I concur," the Jaffa replied, "follow me."

They snuck down several corridors before they arrived at a walkway, many levels above the shield generators.

"The shield generators are far below. There, in the very bowels of the ship. We must climb down several decks, through the length of the ship. Then, taking our weapons, we must-"

Jack pulled two hand grenades from his vest, removed the pins and dropped them all the way down before Moac had even finished his sentence. Two seconds later, they exploded and the generators fell silent. "Grenades," he said by way of explanation.

"This vessel is no longer protected by an energy field."

Kershaw looked up at Teal'c's statement, "So, that's it?"

"That is it."

"I think what the Lieutenant is asking is, 'What now?'," Jack said. "How about we escape? Moac, any idea where the glider bays are from here?"

* * *

**Unknown Planet**   
**Milky Way Galaxy**

Sam raised her right hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun as she walked down the steps of the stargate's platform. It only took her a moment to adjust and then she turned around, back to facing the open wormhole. There was a knot in her stomach but she knew escape was paramount to survival, both for her and her unborn child. Steeling herself, she focused all the anger from within to activate her hand device.

The event horizon rippled and Bra'tac exited the wormhole. He narrowed his eyes at her, clearly suspicious and raised his staff weapon. It made a distinctive sound when he took the safety off and aimed it at her.

"How dare you raise your weapon at me," Sam said, hitting the button on her hand device to activate her shield. "I am your Goddess!"

"You are no Goa'uld!" He yelled, before lowering his weapon with a smirk. "I have spent one hundred and thirty-three years worshipping false gods – no more!"

Sam hesitated, confused by the turn of events. "You-"

"Knew," he said, interrupting her. "Indeed. I have been observing you since the implantation ceremony. You may have fooled Apophis and Klorel, but not me. I do not know how, but somehow you overpowered the parasite within. Your behavior was uncharacteristic for a Goa'uld, although you hid it well. Most of the time. There were too many similarities between the Goa'uld Herit and that of her human host. You forget: I monitored you while you were a  _Tau'ri_  prisoner."

After turning off her shield, she stepped closer. "But you never said anything."

"I could not risk it before now, hm." Suddenly, Bra'tac dropped to one knee and laid his staff weapon across his thigh. "Your strength and stubbornness are unparalleled by any human or Jaffa I have known throughout my life. I pledge my allegiance to you, Captain Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force."

 

The End…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for now, folks! Hope you all enjoyed it. I suffer from aichmophobia, so I'll be going into hiding now, to work on finishing the sequel, and be back in a few weeks with the sequel, Only the Fit Survive. Keep an eye on my Twitter next week if you want to catch a glimpse of the cover for OtFS.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the public timeline of this story [here ](http://www.tiki-toki.com/timeline/entry/311269/Survival-Series). The timeline covers the whole Survival Series, so be aware of possible spoilers.


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